She nods, eyes still shut. “I know.” Her voice cracks on the words. She swallows. Tears stream down her cheeks as she curls her hands around my wrists, anchoring herself to me. “I know.”
A minute later, her hands slide up my arms and fold around my neck. Her lips find mine, soft and barely there, but somehow it lands harder than any kiss we’ve ever shared.
It’s gratitude.
It’s appreciation.
It’s surrender.
It’s trust.
She fuckingtrustsme right now.
She inhales a sharp breath against my mouth, breathing me in like I’m the only oxygen she’s got. Then she crushes her lips to mine with the weight of a hundred pounds, pulling me into her like she’ll never let go.
Something inside me explodes.
Not in a sexual way.
Not destructively.
In the best way. Like we took every lie, every betrayal, every ounce of hurt between us, shoved it in a box…
…and set that shit on fire.
I kiss her back like I fucking mean it. Like I need her just as much as she needs me. Like this one kiss could heal every splintered piece between us.
I kiss her like I love her.
Because I do.
More than anything.
Her tongue strokes against mine, lips taking what she wants, what she needs. And I let her.
Desire spikes hard, my cock making itself known. I could lose myself in this. But I won’t. Not until she’s okay. She’s too vulnerable right now. Too raw.
So I stifle it.
I break the kiss, tugging gently on her swollen bottom lip.
“Hey,” I whisper against her mouth, our breaths mingling. “I got coffee and bagels. How about we go get them?” I pull back just enough to meet her eyes. “We can sit on the couch, talk. I’ll hold you while we drink our coffee.”
She gives a small nod. “Okay.”
Okay.
Chapter Thirty-One
JENSEN
It’s beenone week since Alley’s panic attack. One week since trust was tested. One week since we passed the test.
This couch is deep enough to swallow me whole, but I’m still tense. I’m in Chicago this weekend… at couples therapy. Sophie, our new therapist, has been great so far. I like her. She reminds me a lot of Nina and came highly recommended by Leo. I guess they used to work together.
We’re at her house, in her home office. It’s cozy and comfortable, way better than the therapy rooms in rehab. Not that those weren’t fine. It just feels different. Less clinical. More personal.
I shift in my seat, trying to settle my nerves. “So… I don’t know, I guess I just want to be able to be there for her. I want her to trust me. Get back to where we used to be.” I lean back, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall before returning to Sophie. “Things have been pretty good, all things considered. But I know we’ve got a long way to go. And I worry every day I’m gonna fuck it up, or that she’ll suddenly decide she doesn’t want this.” I scrub a hand over my mouth. “I feel like I’m constantly lookingover my shoulder, praying my past doesn’t catch up, or that she doesn’t give up on me.”
