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This time the silence is light and fluffy like a cloud.
“You’re big for a pet,” he says, sounding more normal.
“So are Dobermans.”
“You’re bigger than that.”
“And better. I mean, I can make coffee. And pancakes.”
A snort.
I settle more comfortably in his lap.
“Thank you for telling me all this,” I say quietly. “There are ways to center yourself, ground yourself. I’ll show you. It may take time, but they work. I’ve read a lot about it.”
His hand pets my hair. “You’d do all this for me. Because you like me.”
Not really a question, and I smile. “Yes.”
A long breath goes out of him, and he sags over me. He drops a kiss on top of my head. “I’ll try. I trust you, Cass.”
God, I love you, I think, but say nothing, doing my best to guard my heart even though I know it’s too late.
Chapter Eleven
Shane
Tomorrow is Zane and Dakota’s wedding. I think about this as I haul pipes and cement bags, carrying them to the waiting truck, my work boots thudding on top of the frozen mud. Fine snowflakes whirl on the air, sticking to my lashes and mouth and hair.
I hand the bags to Hanson who’s loading the truck, and he dumps them inside as I turn around and go back for more.
Fuck, it’s cold. Cold and gray and a bad feeling has been hounding me ever since I arrived this morning.
Am I still going with Cassie tomorrow? She hasn’t mentioned it again since she asked me to be her date.
Not sure I’m looking forward to another wedding. The last one I attended—Asher and Audrey’s—ended up with me drinking myself into a fucking coma, to forget the fact that Cassie had just kissed Jesse.
I wince. She’d always flirted openly, even kissed more guys as I looked on, and I always told myself it was okay. She didn’t want me. I didn’t know those guys.
But that moment in Asher’s wedd
ing changed things. Because Jesse is one of my buddies. And because I couldn’t pretend any longer that I didn’t fucking care. I wanted her for myself.
And now… After fooling around—kissing, jacking off while she fucked herself on her hand, then the blowjob that blew my mind and me going down on her, licking her sweet cream, after holding her as she cried and told me about her dead brother, and I spilled my guts to her, telling her about my triggers, now what?
What are we now?
She likes me, she says. She’s never done this with anyone, she says—masturbating on my bed, waking me up from nightmares and telling me she can help me—but I love her.
She likes me, and I believe her. She doesn’t want to hurt me. But when she moves on to the next guy, I’ll fucking lose it. It was better before, when we knew nothing about each other, when we were orbiting each other and never touching.
I’ve touched her, she’s touched me, and I can’t fucking go back. And I’m not talking about the jerking off and blowjob, or going down on her. Not just that. Having her lie with her head on my lap, her arms around me, probing into my memories and promising hope…
Can’t go back after that. I’ve let her in, closer than I’ve ever let anyone, even Seth who’s my brother, who’s the reason I’m still alive. I opened up, gave myself over to her.
And she doesn’t even know.
***
