“Sounds good. Can I ask questions if I have them?”
“Of course.”
His fingers wrap around mine as I lace our hands together. He’s still trembling. Wanting to reassure him, I lift our joined hands and press a kiss to the back of his.
He offers a weary, grateful smile as we settle onto the couch.
“There wasn’t any reason to rush over here,” I tell him softly.
“I needed to be here for you. I couldn’t tell over the phone where your head was at. Whether this triggered you or not. I needed to look you in the eye as we talked about it. I wanted you to see my honesty in any question you ask.”
Seeing and hearing his fear closes another hole in my heart. “Why are you so scared, dragon boy?”
His laugh is shaky. “I’m more than simply scared, baby. I’m fucking terrified.” He brings my hand to his chest so I can feel his heart racing under my palm. “You’re my person, Charlie. My endgame. You’re the only one I ever want to love in my life. I never want to do anything to hurt you. This fucking terrifies me because we’re at a great place and I don’t want this to set us back any. But if it does, just know I’m still going to fight like hell for you, Charlie, because you’re the love of my life.”
I push against his chest until he falls against the cushions on the back of the couch. His eyes flash with heat when I toss one leg over his waist and climb into his lap.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, awe lighting up his voice.
“So are you,” I reply, laughing when crimson fills his cheeks.
Once I’m in a comfortable spot, I sigh and brush a kiss over his lips. “This didn’t set us back, I promise.”
“Do you want to talk about whatever she sent you?”
“She sent screenshots of old conversations between you.”
Keaton doesn’t tense up or look worried. Instead, he surprises the hell out of me when he snorts. “What did she plan to accomplish with that?”
My finger runs over the outline of the butterfly tattoo on his neck. “You’re not worried about what they say?”
The butterflies seem to flutter with every movement of his throat, each word or swallow making them dance. I can’t look away.
“No.”
“Really?”
Keaton grabs my chin and lifts my face, so I’m staring into his eyes instead of his tattoos. He moves his hand until his fingerscurl around my jaw. The pad of his thumb drags along my bottom lip.
“I’m really not. This may be hard to believe, but it wasn’t like that with us. I never flirted,” he grimaces and amends his statement. “Not that I was ever aware of. I didn’t talk about me and you. It was just boring shit I’d have with any of my friends.”
“And if I told you she sent screenshots of you all sexting?”
He shrugs. “Then I’d say they’re fake as fuck.”
“So confident,” I murmur.
“Because it’s the truth. I never sent her anything like that. I promised you I would always be honest, and I will. Even if it hurts us. Transparency in everything, baby.”
“They were fake. The sexual ones, anyway. I couldn’t tell the difference straight away,” I admit.
“Don’t beat yourself up too much, Charlie. You have a reason for your hesitation.”
“Do you want to see them?”
“Do you want me to? It’s not something I need, but I trust your judgement.”
My mind spins with questions. Do I really want him to read words that put him back in that place with her, even if it’s all fake? Or is it better to just let it go?
