“At least we can relate on that front. I’m not sure what I’d do if you had a pleasant childhood with loving, healthy parents.”
“I think I’d run, honestly. I’d never wish a dysfunctional life like that on anyone, but people who understand love, affection, safety, and regulated emotions scare the fuck out of me.”
Crew threw his head back in laughter, showing me the gorgeous curve of his neck. I watched, mesmerized by the way his Adam’s apple protruded, begging me to lick it.
I couldn’t stop myself any longer. Something was nagging at me the entire time we had eaten dinner. “Why are you really here, Crew?” Iblurted, wincing at the way I’d said it. “I mean, I’m glad you are, but before last night, you acted like I was a contagious disease.”
“Shit, I’m not Pretty Boy anymore?”
“Jesus, no. I just?—”
He cut me off. “I know. I’m just stalling.”
I watched him duck his head, his attention on his hands that twisted around each other in his lap. “Just be honest with me. Whatever you want, or need, or don’t want—be honest, please.”
A sharp exhale left him and his body deflated. “I’ve been lying for so long; I don’t know how to be honest.”
My hand hadn’t left his leg, letting me squeeze him gently. “Tell me why you came here tonight. Why did you ask me to touch you last night? I won’t judge you, no matter what it is.”
When he looked up at me, I saw it. His eyes swam with darkness, a gray and black pit that shadowed the blue I’d come to adore.
Fear.
Restraint.
Deep, impenetrable agony for something I didn’t understand yet.
“Crew—” I began, pausing the moment his name left my lips. “Pretty Boy, you say I remind you of Prince Charming, right? Well, let me fight whatever it is you’re scared of, like a real Prince Charming.”
I felt the way he flinched beneath my palm. His body jerked slightly, a small whimper falling from his lips. “What if it’s you I’m scared of?”
My chest tightened. The grip I had on his leg loosened. I knew I’d moved, though I didn’t make the conscious effort to, because suddenly, our knees were no longer touching, and the armrest of the couch was digging further into my back.
Crew shook his head, tripping over his words. “I don’t mean—Well—Fuck.” He sighed, dropping his head into his hands, his back hunching over. “I’m not scared that you’ll hurt me or anything. I’m fucking terrified of the fact that youwon’t.”
“Okay…”
“You make me feel things I’ve never allowed myself to feel. Willow said some stuff when we talked that made me think a lot. I don’t do that.” He lifted his gaze for a moment before falling back into his hands.
“I don’t think about my emotions and shit,” he clarified. “I just do what I’m supposed to do—whathetells me to do. I don’t deserveanything else. You are the complete goddamn opposite of what I deserve, and that should make me sick, but it doesn’t. It fucking doesn’t and it messes me up.”
I wasn’t following. The ditch of my left arm was tingling, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears, the whooshing sound overwhelming everything else. “Who?”
Crew looked up, his lips pulled down in something between a frown and a scowl. “Forget I said that. It doesn’t matter.”
“Is he the one who made you do sex work?”
“Nobody made me do sex work but myself.”
“Was he the cause, though?”
“Stop asking me about him, or so help me God, I’ll leave.”
I nodded, knowing he’d do it and that I didn’t have the energy or willpower to go back and forth anymore.
“You made it stop,” Crew whispered.
My fingers twitched with the need to scratch. I tried to distract them, tapping them along my thigh. “I made what stop?”
