Calmly, Carefully, Completely(60)

“Sometimes.” She looks away and avoids my gaze. She doesn’t want to talk about it, apparently.

I want to ask questions, but I don’t want to bring it all back up for her if she has pushed it from the forefront of her mind. “Do you relive it in your dreams?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Not the rape, specifically,” she says. She says it like it’s such a common word. My gut clenches. “I dream more about the feelings. Regret, mainly.”

“What do you regret?” I ask.

She looks up at me, almost like she’s seeking a connection with me, and I like it. I f*cking love it. “I regret going to that party,” she says. “I should have been in my dorm studying.”

“Did you know him?” I ask. “Or was he a stranger?”

“I had never met him. That’s why I feel so stupid over it. I never should have been alone with him in the bathroom. Alone with a man I didn’t know.” She heaves a sigh. “One minute he’s kissing me, and then I’m calling out to stop because it just doesn’t feel right. But he wouldn’t.”

She shivers, and I want to draw her inside me and protect her. A tear slips from the corner of her eye and tracks down her temple.

She sniffs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cry on you.” She chuckles, but it’s a watery sound.

“You came while riding my knee, princess,” I say quietly. “I think you can cry on me, too.”

Her face colors, but she smiles. She whispers, “I’ve never done that before.”

“No one has ever made you come?” I ask. I know the answer to this, but I want to hear her say it. I don’t know why. I just need it. I slide my leg across her thighs and put some of my weight on her, but she doesn’t seem to mind. I really want to open her dress so I can lay my hand on her belly. But I settle for this moment, instead.

She shakes her head.

I run my finger down her nose. “You never did that yourself?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No.” She looks into my eyes. “Thank you,” she says.

“Anytime, princess,” I say with a laugh. “I am at your disposal.”

“You’re such a giver,” she taunts, shoving my shoulder.

“I aim to serve.” I laugh. God, she makes me feel so light and free. “I think I could have some very real feelings for you,” I blurt out. I want to bite the words back as soon as I say them.

“Good,” she says, and she smiles as she rolls into my chest and wraps her arm around me. She buries her face in my shirt. I think she might be embarrassed.

“I pour my heart out and all you can say is good?” I jostle her in my arms.

“Mmm hmm,” she hums. I feel her lips against my shirt, her breath warming the fabric. She laughs. “You can’t really call that pouring your heart out, Pete.” She mocks my tone, making her voice deep. “I think I might have some very real feelings for you.” She laughs, and damn it all, it’s such a pretty sound that she can’t annoy me with it.

She lifts the tail of my shirt, and her fingers slide up my stomach. I cover her hand with mine to stop her exploration. I’m too turned on. I don’t think my erection ever eased from before, and it’s pressing hard against my zipper now.

“Why can’t I touch you?” she whispers.

“Because I’m too turned on right now,” I whisper back.

She sits back so she can look up at my face. “What does that even mean?”

I press my lips to her forehead, lingering there. “It means I’m a guy. And the wind is blowing.”