Flock (The Ravenhood)

I trace the line of his jaw. “You are anything but simple.”

“My needs are. I don’t want things like other people.”

“Why? Why train yourself for such simplicity when you are worth so much…” I dig in and let myself reveal what I’m feeling. “You are so much more than what you let people see, than what you give yourself credit for.”

“That’s the point.”

“Why won’t you let people know you?”

“You know me.”

I melt into that statement, the tone giving me life, his words giving me life. “And I’m lucky.”

“You are anything but,” he mutters dryly.

“Please just stop that…you don’t have low self-esteem. What’s with this glib shit?”

“There is so much you don’t know.”

“I want to, Dom. I want to know all sides of you.”

“You don’t, Cecelia, you think you do, but you don’t.”

“You think I won’t care for you like I do?”

“Things will change.”

“I don’t care,” I place my hands on his chest. “I want in. Please let me in.”

He remains quiet and I blow out a frustrated breath. Lately, I’m becoming more and more frustrated with the militant restraint they show, but it’s not changing. It’s the price I have to pay to be with them both, so I backpedal.

“Okay, okay.” I roll back and let my head rest on his windshield and silently berate myself for pushing so hard. “Sorry.” I lift and press a kiss to his jaw. “It’s hard being with you. It’s just hard sometimes.”

I reclaim my place back in his hold and run my hand underneath his shirt palming his chest, he grips my bare shoulder, pulling me tighter to him.

“You are in.”

Every word hits the innermost part of me. Emotions surface as I crane my neck to look up at him. He places a soft kiss to my lips, deepening it to the point he’s pressing those words into me.

When he pulls away, I feel everything at once. I know I’m in love with him. I just don’t know how much of him I know.

My computer geek/keyboard warrior, my book nerd who lives like a peasant despite his place in the ranks. A silent hero with a flip switch temper. A passionate lover, who reserves his subtle kindness, a warmth close to imperceptible unless you get close enough to see it. Yet with him I can see it, I can feel it, in his touch, in his eyes, inside him dwells a gentle soul capable of much more than he lets on. I’m so greedy for him that I want him to have everything. I want him to embrace it. I want to see him showered with the love he deserves. And selfishly, I want to be the only one ever to do it.

I open my mouth to do just that when he covers it.

“Don’t waste good words on me.”

He muffles my objection.

“It’s okay, Cecelia. I’m as close to happy as a man like me deserves.”

It’s his secrets that keep him humble, keep him from letting himself want anything more than what he has. Only a good man would question whether or not he deserves anything more. A part of me breaks at the idea he thinks he deserves nothing more from his future.

“Have you hurt people?”

Silence. But it’s not a stupid question. It’s just a question he won’t answer. It’s probable h

e’s used the gun in his car and will do it again. He’s a man with too many secrets and no one to share them with.