Capturing Peace (Sharing You 0.5)(34)
Coen just smiled and shook his head once as he got somehow, impossibly, closer to me. “We argue because you’re a bitch and I’m a dick, and neither of us know how to keep our mouths shut. We argue because you’re usually fighting me on something, or trying to protect yourself and Parker, and I’m trying to get you to see how ridiculous you’re being. We argue because that’s our way of talking through things. We get loud, yeah, but we don’t scream at each other, we don’t throw shit, and you will never in your life see me raising a hand to you or any woman. So we argue? Who f*cking cares, Reagan? At least we don’t have to worry about our first fight. At least we don’t have to worry about communication issues. This is how we talk, and when we’ve talked everything out, we’re fine.”
“Always the charmer, Coen. You really think you can call me a bitch, and I’ll just swoon or something because you tried to justify it?”
He looked at me for a few seconds before whispering, “Yeah, Duchess, I do.”
“That’s not how—” My words cut off on a high-pitched whimper when his mouth pressing firmly against mine, and it took a few seconds of giving into his kiss before I pushed him back. “No, I’m not done being mad!”
Coen’s dark eyes held mine, the humor now gone. “You’re not mad at me, Reagan. You’re trying to protect yourself again, and in doing that you’ve tried to find reasons to be pissed. If anyone should be mad here, it’s me. You tried to take you and Parker from me because you thought I would run. You tried to take away my say in our relationship. If I really thought you wanted to break up, then this wouldn’t be happening. But I know what you’re trying to do, and I’m not going to let you.”
“I’m—”
“Scared. You’re scared, baby, I know.”
My jaw trembled harder and tears pricked at the back of my eyes.
“We can have this argument a thousand more times than we already have, Duchess, and I’m still going to be here, fighting for our chance. What Parker said scared you today. Not me. You. But like I said, I know you don’t want to break up. I know you want this just as bad as I do. We can go back a few steps, we can slow things down. I won’t come over, I won’t stay the night . . . whatever it takes for you not to be scared.”
“We can’t, Coen, that’s just it. Did you not hear what I said to Keegan? Everything’s fast with us, but fast feels right when I’m with you. I just—” I cut off on a strained sob and dropped my face into my hands. “This isn’t some insecurity of mine that you will leave me. This isn’t me being ridiculous because I don’t want to lose you. I can’t have Parker lose you, do you understand? I can’t have him fall in love with you and lose you! It seems dumb to you, it may seem dumb to everyone . . . but his heart is my priority . . . not mine.”
Coen moved my hands from my face, and tilted my head back so he could brush the tears back. He stayed silent for long minutes as he cradled my face in his hands, and I braced myself for when he would finally agree with me. Agree that he couldn’t do this.
“I can’t promise a future, Reagan,” he began softly. “I can’t promise a future because I’ve seen too many lives cut short. Nothing is certain. But with what you know about me, with how I feel about you; you can be assured that leaving you—leaving the woman who silences my demons—is the last thing I want. You asked me why I pushed so hard for this . . . do you not see me still fighting for us? Fighting after only a couple weeks for something that neither of us can guarantee?”
Blinking away more tears, I looked up into his pained expression, and everything in me ached at the hurt I saw there.
“You’re terrified of what will happen to you and Parker if I leave . . . have you even realized that you already gave me a taste of what it would be like for you to leave?”
“Coen,” I cried out, and covered my mouth with shaky hands.
“I can’t promise you forever. But neither can you. All I can promise you is that I want you, I want to be with you, I want to be there for your son—and I can’t begin to fathom hurting either of you.” His dark eyes moved back and forth between mine for a few seconds. “Okay?”
I nodded and managed to choke out, “ ’Kay.”
A soft breath blew past his lips as relief settled over his face. “Now can we stop with this bullshit? I told you, I’ll have this same fight with you a thousand times, but Duchess, that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t stop. There has to be some kind of trust between us. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I whispered.
Brushing a kiss across my lips, he wiped my cheeks with his thumbs once more before letting his forehead fall against mine and releasing a heavy sigh. “Jesus Christ, Duchess. I told you, you’ll be the death of me,” he said softly, before stepping back and bringing me away from the wall.
Walking us back toward the couch, he pulled me down so I was sitting sideways on his lap and wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry.”
His hand paused for a second before continuing on the path up and down my back. “I know you are. But we fought it out, talked everything through, and it’s behind us now. So there’s no need to say you’re sorry anymore.”
I couldn’t even remember if I’d said sorry before, and I needed to apologize for everything I’d done. I looked up at him, and waited for his dark eyes to meet mine. “I’m not sure if I agree with—”