TWENTY-FIVE
I stir sometime before dawn. It’s still dark outside, with cracks of orange and purple bleeding into the horizon as the sky prepares itself for daylight. As I clutch the sheets tighter to my chest, I’m suddenly aware that I’m naked.
Last night’s memories float back to me like a nearly forgotten dream. I remember how rough Kayden’s hands were when they roamed over my body, how he kissed me until my lips were numb and tender, and how earth shattering it was when he gifted me orgasms that left me in fragments. We were in and out of sleep for a few hours, each time waking up and craving more from each other. It was beautiful, kind, unspoken in the way we moved against each other, as if we needed any more convincing of our affection for one another.
I never wanted the night to end.
But the question still lingers at the back of my head: Does he regret it now?
I know my answer. What happened last night was exactly what I wanted.
I turn over to his side and notice the absence of his body next to me. My heart drops, a nervous frown marring my lips. The clothes that were lying on the floor are now in a pile inside the laundry bag beside his door.
I leave his room, popping into mine quickly to slip into some clothes before peeking into the living room. Sure enough, I find Kayden sitting on the couch, his huge arms rested over his thighs and his head dipped low. He looks deep in contemplation, frustrated almost. Like he’s having an internal battle with himself and losing.
I don’t know if I should go over to him. I’m scared that I won’t like what I’ll hear if I do. But I don’t want to go back to my room. I need to know where we stand.
I clear my throat, announcing my presence.
Kayden whips head up, an emotionless expression on his face.
“If you regret it . . .” I say, my throat constricting at the words that are about to leave me, “we can pretend that it didn’t happen.”
He looks at me, incredulous.
“You think I regret it?” He whispers. “Sienna, I’ve been dreaming of being with you like that for ages. I don’t regret it one goddamned bit.”
I hug myself with my arms as I approach him. It’s a little cold with the wind drifting into the living room from the open window. He makes space for me on the couch and when I’m seated, he drags the throw blanket over my body to keep me warm. I peek a glance and notice that he’s staring at me, his expression a mixture of sadness and surprise. Like he can’t quite believe that I’m still here. And to be honest, I feel the same way about him. I figured he’d bolt by now.
We lean into each other on the couch. He takes my hand in his and places it above his heart.
“Feel this,” he says, his voice strained. “You own my heart. Every single heartbeat is for you.”
I gulp, my lips trembling.
What have I done to deserve all these beautiful words?
I force myself to look away from him, feeling the tears spring into my eyes. I hold them in because I don’t really want to cry right now.
“What are we doing, Kayden?” I whisper.
The question ripples through the room, exposing the complicated nature of our relationship.
“I don’t know.” Kayden shrugs, rubbing his hands together. “I woke up early because I needed to think about us. What we did last night kept replaying at the back of my mind and I realized that I don’t want just one night with you.
I want all of them.”
Delightful shivers fly up my spine.
“And if I want that, it means I have to be honest with you,” he tells me. “Yesterday, you said my past didn’t matter.
That you only cared about me as I am now. But I care. I care about what you think of me. And if I want to be with you, you have to know who I am. All of it. Even the ugly parts.”
I take his hand and link our fingers together, giving him a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m here,” I whisper. “And I’m not going to leave.”
He pauses, swallowing hard. He struggles to find the right words to tell me. My heart quickens, almost afraid of what he’s going to say.