I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, which made me chuckle. Rarely did I feel compelled to be so expressive with my feelings, but it was like Ty pulled all that right from me.
“Just an easy slow dance to get into it,” Ty said. “Nothing fancy. I’ll lead.”
“If we’re dancing, I’m going to lead.”
“Can’t we take turns?” He winked, his commentary suggestive, as per usual. “And you thought you were the one who was trouble.” He cocked his brow, looking particularly full of himself.
As he approached and took my hands, I realized I’d fallen right into his trap, but a trap I was happy to be ensnared in.
“Like I said,I’m leading,” I added, getting right into it.
It took a moment for Ty to adjust, but not long. If anything, it was concerning how quickly we found our rhythm, just like usual on the dance floor. Something about the way our bodies moved together seemed so natural, so innate, so primal. I didn’t doubt how that would translate in the bedroom, but I knew better than to entertain that thought for very long. Still, it seemed the more I resisted in my mind, the less willing my pants were to agree with it.
I let the song hypnotize me as we fell under its—underTy’sspell.
There we were in this cabin, sharing a silly little dance. This young, attractive man I admired in many ways desiring me back. I finally submitted to the pull that had been tugging at me the whole time, and our gazes met.
“You’re pretty good at this,” Ty admitted.
“I’m good at a lot of things.”
He chuckled, and I felt his gaze on me again, but in a very determined way, I kept from returning it, just continued dancing.
“You’re very good too. Clearly those classes with your mom made all the difference.”
His expression turned serious for a moment.
“Sorry, that wasn’t meant to be—”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t expect you to walk on eggshells over it. Was what it was.”
Yet I detected so much more in his words. His pain. His heartache.
I imagined the fifteen-year-old kid returning home to his mother, discovering how she’d tried to leave the world, leave him behind. And then having to face her for the rest of his life after, knowing she’d wanted to be as gone as my own parents were when I was growing up.
“You know,” he said, “after that…incident…was when I made Mom tell me who my dad was. Figured I deserved to know where he was, considering she was trying to leave me. At the time, she’d always said he’d known and chose to leave, so I felt like…”
“…both of your parents tried to abandon you?”
He nodded subtly, like he didn’t want to vocalize the fears of that frightened kid.
“Of course, I didn’t know then that Eric really had wanted to be in my life, so I just thought…” He stopped short of finishing his sentence.
Oh, what he must have felt like back then. Believing his father had ditched him and that his mother was trying to do the same.
My Pretty Thing, feeling rejected by all the world.
“It’s hard when your parents abandon you,” I said.
“They’re still here, at least.”
“But it must’ve been a lot to be a kid and think they weren’t.”
Oh, my poor Pretty Thing.
For as much talking as he did, in his own way, he too had mastered the art of shielding his own truth, his dark past. If anything, he had found a way to disguise all that through trivial conversations. To hide what was clearly…pain, so much pain.
“Some days I still wonder if they want to be there.” His honesty pierced right through my heart, my soul. He shook his head forcefully. “No, no. IknowEric and Mom are in my life for real now, but you know, there’s always a little kid in there, wondering.”
