Broken Girl(77)

She sits on the sofa, pulling me down next to her she twists, makes her knee a barrier between us. A stance of distance, a fear she doesn’t want to face.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“I needed to see you. I need to know if you still feel the same way as you did when you wrote the letter to me. I need you to . . . I guess what I’m trying to say, is that I’m scared that I’m . . . that I’m too late.”

She seems like she’s not ready for me to comfort her, not completely. I slip my arm around behind her, making sure to rest on the top of the cushion of the sofa.

“No, God, no, you’re not too late. I’m here, I meant every word and I’m listening,” I answer trying to harness the electricity surging through every cell of my body.

Her expression is filled with desolation. A tear breaks free and rolls down her delicate cheek. I want to touch her, brush my thumb across the side of her face and let her tear soak into my skin, but I don’t. I see she’s trying to find the strength to give me an explanation of how tightly wrapped she is.

“You’re so beautiful, Rose,” I whisper.

God, give me the strength . . .

“I worked through a lot of things, Shane. A lot of things while I was up in Portland.”

“Portland?” I ask. “That’s a lot farther than I thought.”

“Yeah, well, I just hopped in my car and drove until I was far enough away to stop. My whole life I was never anyone’s number one. I know now that I deserve to be someone’s number one.”

She’s so small, delicate even.

“You’re my number one, Rose. You’re my number one, my number two, every number that exists in my number line.”

We’re both raw, scared, needy.

My body’s vibrating, and my heart is thundering so loud in my ears I can’t hear myself think. I take a chance. I caress my fingers against her delicate skin, dampened by her tears that are speeding down her cheeks. I feel electricity as my skin meets hers. I’m meant to do this, I’m meant to be right here, with this delicate, beautiful creature.

“You really believe that?” she asks.

“Yes. You’re my everything, I’m here and will always be as long as you’ll have me.”

She leans into my touch before she drops her head to my shoulder, and as if I’m an old friend, a comfortable blanket, she pushes into me. Her knee, an afterthought is pinned under us. We begin to sway back and forth, soothing motion, trying to find the actions to mirror the fireworks taking off in my body.

I ache to heal her, help her curb the anger that thunders through her body when she’s cornered like a vicious dog, a rattler, a lion. She opens just enough to let me in.

I feel it when her body language tilts, she lets go and rests her weight across my shoulder. She’s opening to me, her breathing is deliberate. Burying her face against my neck, she starts kneading her lips against my flesh.

Her words are muffled against my neck, it doesn’t matter, I hear them loud and clear. “You’re so warm. Smell so good. I’ve missed you so much. Would it be wrong if I wanted you to kiss me?”

Tempted by her request, I want to be her first, I want to be the one that fills every missing brick in her foundation.

“No, I think it depends on what you want. I know what I want,” I whisper.

She pulls back and drops her mouth down next to my ear, a chill surges through my body.

“This is what I want,” she whispers before she pulls back from me. Her eyes, dark as the vast ocean on a moonless night as they pin me helpless.

I brush my lips lightly against the corner of her mouth. I sigh, a soft, desperate breath catches in my throat. She stops and pulls back just far enough to tickle the edge of my lips. The same lips that ache to discover every space on her body.

“Are you as nervous as I am?” she asks.

I shake my head without saying a word and I will myself to be brave, be strong.

She takes my hand, presses it against her chest, I feel her heart thundering. “I’m so f*cking nervous,” she quips.

“I’m making you nervous, why?”

“I’m still terrified there’s a part of you that will turn me down. I’ve been gone for so long, I’m afraid I messed up so much with you.” Her lips quiver, her eyes carrying the weight of her fear. I need her to know I’m already hers.

“You’re afraid I’m not going to want you? Rose, this is all for you.” I’m breaking at her words.

“I’m scared you don’t want to share yourself with someone who messed up so bad and left you so she could find herself,” she chokes, tears streaming down her cheeks.

I take her hand and press it to my chest. “You’re right here, a big part of you, sits right here.” She feels my heart crashing against her hand too. Tears fill my eyes, I can’t help it, I’m watching my life, the woman I want to spend all my moments with, crumble in front of me.

“I don’t think you really understand, Shane . . . in my entire life, you’ve been the only one to calm the raging sea in my mind.”

My heart twists as every instinct I have, every urge to keep her and scoop her up consuming every ounce of her fear, her pain. My nose nudges her cheek, her soft, delicate lips open just enough to let my tongue trace the seam of her mouth. I close my eyes, let the moment devour me. This was happening. I’m finally tasting the pain and pleasure of who she is.