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“I’m sorry.” He lets out a sigh and moves back to the bed. Climbing in next to me, he pulls me onto his lap and crushes me to his chest.
Silence wraps around us as my ear is pressed to his heart. It’s racing, and it’s racing for me.
“Emma asked me once why I couldn’t just get over it—after all, it was only one night. But what she and everyone else don’t realize is that it wasn’t. Yes, that final night was traumatic and ultimately the end point, but the emotional pain of his behavior started months before. All wounds heal, and all wounds leave scars. Inside or out, they’re still there.”
“So what happens now? How do we make this better for you?” His voice vibrates against my face, and my ears stick on the “we.” My heart smiles.
“‘Never let yesterday use up too much of today.’” I’ve always loved this.
“What?” He’s confused.
“It’s a quote. What happened to me yesterday could be the same thing that happens tomorrow, hypothetically speaking, but I can’t let it consume everything I do from day to day. I just can’t live that way. I’m always going to have anxiety. Being touched in certain places causes flashbacks and fear. I think of myself being similar to say someone who has a fear of spiders or snakes. Put them in a room with either one of those and what do you think is going to happen?”
“Snakes and the fear of being touched are two completely different things. One is avoidable and one is not.” He loosens his bear hug hold on me, and relaxes a little more.
“I know it’s irrational, and I’ve tried to make it better . . . I have. But it’s like my mind and my body disconnect from each other and everything goes black. I don’t want to feel this way. Believe it or not, I used to be a very huggy person. I would hug friends, family, just about anyone.” I pull back and look at his face.
“Well, if you must know, back in the hallway, when you wrapped your arms around me, I was elated. Feel free to hug me as much as you want.” He gives me a lopsided smile, complete with one dimple.
“Thank you, Ash, again, for what you did for me last night, and well, for all the nights. For what it’s worth, I am so much better than I used to be, and look at me now. I’m sitting on your lap, with your arms around me.” I grin at him.
“I want to kiss you.” His eyes drop to my lips.
“Then kiss me,” I state brazenly.
Wasting no time, he wraps his hands around my head, licks his lips, and pulls my face to his.
Immediately on contact, both of us let out a sigh, a release of sorts from the tension over the last half hour. His fingers tangle in my hair, his thumbs caress my cheeks, and I lean into him.
This kiss isn’t hungry, but filled with a passion that makes me feel treasured, adored. The way his lips move, and the way his tongue dances with mine, it leaves me breathless and still wanting more.
“I love the way you taste,” he says against my lips, moving his to the corner of my mouth and then my cheek.
“But I haven’t brushed my teeth.” I inwardly cringe.
“Can’t tell,” he says, laying his face next to mine. His eyelashes brush back and forth across my temples as he blinks and wraps his arms around me to hold me.
“Stay with me this weekend,” he says in my ear, giving me goosebumps.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
He pulls back and smiles at me. The anger and frustration are gone from his eyes, and they’ve lightened. It’s such a beautiful color.
“Hungry yet?” His eyebrows rise while his hands slide down my back to my hips.
“Yes, I think I am.” I give him a knowing, almost sultry look.
His eyes widen and his hands tighten on my hips, pulling me forward slightly.
Leaning to me, his mouth hovering just an inch from mine, his eyes scan over my face and my heart starts pounding. A slow smile stretches across his handsome face, he pops me on the lips with a quick kiss, and then he tosses me off and over to the other side of the bed.
“Soon, Sunshine. But first, food.” He chuckles as he makes his way across the room and out the door.
GOD, HOW I want her to be mine. Forever.
After spending a week with her in the mountains, talking to her over the last month, seeing her on stage, and hearing her tell her story . . . I'm in complete awe of her, and I’m amazed at how she lives her life, despite everything that happened to her. In fact, all those things that have made her imperfect, have made her the perfect imperfection to me.
“Come to the show tonight.” I look at her across the couch.
