A chill ran through me. The words, the actions…it was all too much like Jared, and I pushed away from Nate. “I can’t do this. Not yet.”
Where the hell I got this strength to stop him making love to me, I didn’t know. All I wanted was to have him inside me, but at what price? I wouldn’t do that to myself again. I pulled my sweats back up.
“No matter how much I love you, Nate, I need to know. Where do we stand?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
I had no idea what I planned to say to Press when I left home to talk to him. It wouldn’t be an easy discussion, nor a reassuring one. There was so much hurt and pain when we last saw each other, especially with the horrible words I’d flung at him. Now, with Press in front of me bravely seeking the truth, the time had come. Nothing worth having ever came easily, as evidenced by my yearning for my father’s acceptance, still, all these years later. Even death didn’t stop me from trying to prove myself to him, but the cracks began to separate further, and I was close to breaking apart.
How badly did I want Presley?
Very, and I couldn’t resist touching him. Touching led to kissing because as it had been from the first with Presley, it wasn’t enough. I needed to lose myself in his mouth and drown inside him. Passion spread through my veins like liquid fire, leaving a trail of smoldering embers in its wake.
Being with Presley meant owning myself. He made me come alive. I could no more deny him than I could deny myself.
“Where do you stand?” I slid a hand up his arm to hold him so he couldn’t move out of reach. I needed to touch him to prove he was here with me and I was doing this. “Next to me. By my side.”
His eyes widened. “Do you mean it? Or are you saying it to get me into bed with you?”
“I’ll leave right now without so much as a kiss if you want, but my answer would remain the same.” Physically I let him go, but I held him with my eyes. “Baby, it wasn’t any good without you—Iwasn’t any good. I need you.”
Presley seemed unconvinced. “How can I be sure you won’t resent me in the future because of what I did? I can swear up and down every single day that I’d never cheat on you or look at another man. But if what happened six years ago is always going to remain between us, then we don’t have trust. I want to understand your fears, not cause them.”
“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes and know how special you are to me. I never meant to hurt you, Press.” I took his hand and tugged him with me to sit on the couch. “I’ve spent my whole life in denial. Ethan doesn’t understand—he never had to be anyone other than himself. I had to find another way to be me, by denying myself, so I could prove to my father every day that being gay wasn’t a detriment. I needed to be better just to be loved the same. And I wanted that, dammit, because everyone knew Whit Sherman was the best at everything. He had the Midas touch, but it wasn’t until he died that I saw the tarnish on that golden surface.”
At the touch of Presley’s hand to my shoulder, I jerked my gaze to meet his and winced. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”
“I feel sorry for both of us—you because of what you’ve gone through and me because it’s keeping us apart when we care about each other, but you’re too afraid.”
“I’m not. Not anymore. I want to be with you.”
“Are you sure?”
I slid my arm around his shoulders. “I’ve never been more sure of who I am, and more importantly, who I’m supposed to be with. I’m ready to shout it out loud to everyone, but I don’t want to go anywhere yet.”
“No?” Presley’s eyes heated, and he licked his lips. “What do you want to do?”
I trailed a finger down Presley’s jaw and tipped his chin up, allowing my lips to hover over his. “You.” I kissed him. “I hear make-up sex is great.”
“Yeah?” His lips curved in a smile. “I’ll reserve judgment until afterward.”
“But first…” I reached over to the coffee table and grabbed a bag. “Do I smell spare ribs?”
“You’re choosing spare ribs over sex?” Presley’s mouth fell open, and then he burst out laughing. “Go for it. Frisco brought a ton of food.”
“I didn’t eat all day.” I dived into the bag and tore into the ribs. Sauce stuck to my lips and fingers as I gnawed away. “Frisco has his benefits, I guess. Besides ripping me a new one.”
With one hand holding a container of some kind of chicken with noodles and another of green vegetables, Presley furrowed his brow. “What’re you talking about?”
“You didn’t know?” At the shake of his head, I chewed and swallowed. “He came to my office, called me a sanctimonious bastard, and told me I wasn’t good enough for you. Basically, that I didn’t deserve someone like you.” I took another rib out of the tin.
Presley turned red, then pale. “I can’t believe him. He had no right to do that.” Growing more distraught with every word, he set the food on the table and stormed around the apartment, his face again flushed red. “I could kill him. I might, in fact. Later.”
“Don’t be angry with him.” I licked my fingers clean and wiped them on a napkin. “He woke me up. I’d basically been sleepwalking since we broke up, and he came to my office and laid into me, pointing out my faults and everything I did wrong to you. And he was right. By only allowing myself to be half of who I was, I’ve never given you my everything. And you deserve that.” He sat down, and I took his face between my palms, ran my nose down his cheek. “You deserve everything.”
“Are you full yet?”
“With food, yeah. Not with you.” I pressed my lips to his and caught his sigh of pleasure in my mouth. “It might take all night to satisfy me.”
