"Vanessa—" There's so much packed into the word.
I care about you. I can't watch you hurt yourself. I won't let you resist help.
But Simon isn't in charge of me.
I can leave anytime. I can refuse help. I can lock him out.
I can choose control over love.
The way my biological father did.
Only different.
Self-destruction.
Better than hurting someone I love. But still dangerous.
"I haven't admitted it to anyone," I say. "I ended my last relationship because I didn't want him to know. Because I felt better controlling my body than…"
"Accepting pleasure?"
"Yes."
"I won't say I know what you've been through. I don't. But I know that feeling."
"You do?"
He nods. "After Bash… I…" He reaches for something. Doesn't find it.
It's strange seeing him tongue-tied.
Sweet.
Scary.
"Thank you for telling me. For trusting me. I'm honored," he says.
"You don't want to run away?"
"No."
"You promise?"
"Yes."
The word isn't a relief.
It's terrifying.
He wants to stay.
He wants to see my ugly parts.
He pulls my body into his. He's so warm and hard and safe.
There's a physical safeness. His size. His strength. His ability to protect me.
And something else too.
A soft place to land.
I let my eyes fall closed. Soak in the scent of his skin. "This is not a great seduction on my part."
He chuckles. "It's perfect."
We lie there for a long time. Until I can feel his heart pounding against his chest.
Slow and steady and comforting.
"We can wait until next time for the whiskey," he says.
No. I need this time. I want to feel good. "The whiskey maybe. But not the rest."
"Are you sure?"
Yes. I need to erase the ugly thoughts in my head. To replace them with something beautiful. "Yes."
"Do you need different?"
"Different?"
"Tonight. After talking about that. Softer. Slower. Or harder. I won't judge any reaction you have."
"You mean if I want you to hurt me, because I grew up seeing abuse as love?"
"No."
"No?"
"If you want to be in control."
"Tie you to the headboard?"
He nods into my neck.
"I'm starting to think you have an interest." My laugh is sad. But it feels good too.
"In watching you use me like a toy? Why wouldn't I?"
"Not tonight." I don't know what I need tonight. I just know I need him. "Maybe soon. To satisfy your dirty desires."
"For me?"
"Only because you want it, yeah."
"Considerate."
"Thank you."
"Is there anything else?" He runs his thumb over my temple. "Anything you need me to do?"
"No… The same. I… I don't like rough."
He nods. He doesn't ask if that's why. Or mention my need for control. Or ask what else I've done to cope.
He just holds me.
It feels so good.
Safe and warm and comfortable.
Like I really can collapse.
Fall apart.
Trust him to put me back together.
I'm not sure how long I stay there. Five minutes or two hours.
It's easy and steady. Almost a trance.
Until keys jingle. And the door creaks open.
His sister is home.
It's not just us, anymore.
It's not just sex, anymore.
He's inviting me into his family.
Into his life.
Into a real relationship.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
VANESSA
"I'm not looking." Opal steps inside, one hand over her eyes. "I'm minding my own business. I won't see anything."
Simon looks up at me, affection in his eyes. He leans close enough to whisper. "You can go."
"No," I whisper back.
"Are you sure?"
No. But I nod anyway.
Opal interrupts. "Continue your dirty talk at a reasonable volume. I know your generation is all sex maniacs. Briar and Danielle are technically in my generation, but they're on the cusp. And it shows. Less obsessive than you and Liam. But still thinking they invented sexy pictures. Especially Danielle." She pushes the door closed with her leg. Shrugs her purse off her shoulder.
"We're dressed," I say. "You can look."
She peeks through two fingers, like she expects to see us naked, in some acrobatic position. "You are."
I slide off Simon's lap.
He stands. Picks up the glasses. "Is it that surprising?"
"Yeah." She watches him bring the glasses to the sink. "Can I have one?"
"Do you want another?" He looks to me.
It's tempting, but it's a bad idea. "I'm good."
"The strawberries?" he asks.
Opal's eyes go wide.
He looks to his sister. "Yes?"
"Nothing. Nothing. I'm wiped. And it's hot. This is less breathable than I thought." She tugs at the neckline of her cocktail dress. "I'm going to shower. But after that… I had a lot of coffee, so I'm not really tired, but I—" She looks to Simon and motions let's talk over here.
He shakes his head we can talk here.
"You're not naked," she says.
"I'm aware," he says.
"Do you not have any game?" she asks.
"Game?" he asks.
She tries to whisper, but she's not remotely quiet. "Yeah. Is that why you don't have a girlfriend? Not because you're busy or emotionally unavailable, but because you can't close the deal?"
Oh my god. A laugh spills from my lips.
She looks to me and puts her hand over her mouth. "Sorry."
"We're obsessed with sex?" I ask.
She shrugs, guilty.
"Do I have game?" Simon asks me.