“I know.That’s how my mom died.”I bite my lip.“Sorry, I’m ruining our honeymoon.”
He scoots closer, so our thighs are touching, and takes my hand.He’s touching me more and more, and I love it.
What’s more, I need it.
“You could never do that.I’m honored you’re sharing with me.”
I brush at my eyes.I’m not crying, just…a little emotional.“I’m sure patients do that a lot.Dump on you,” I say briskly.
“Not really.I think I intimidate people.That’s why I wear glasses–they remind me to put on my bedside manner.”
“I was wondering what happened to your glasses.They’re not prescription?”
“No, they’re props.”
I let out a chuff of laughter and imagine him putting on his glasses before entering a patient’s room.“Like Clark Kent.You’re Superman.”
Shaking his head, he pulls me up and leads me out to the pool, effectively avoiding the subject.
But I don’t drop it.Once I get in the pool, I swim around a bit.The water must be heated, and the winter sun is warm in Las Vegas, so it feels nice.
Matthias does a few laps, and I get to watch his giant body move sleekly through the water, fast as an Olympic athlete.Eventually he resurfaces, shakes the water out of his face, and finds a spot near me to lounge.
“You are like Superman, you know,” I tell him.“You came to my rescue.As soon as I saw you in that hotel room, I knew I was safe.”
“Youaresafe,” he says.“I’ll never let anyone touch you again.”
“You slept beside me last night.”
He looks away.“I wasn’t going to let you out of my sight.I shouldn’t have–”
“No, I’m glad.”I swim close to him.
A muscle jerks in his cheek.He doesn’t lean away from me, but his whole body is tense.“I’m too old for you.”
I blink.Is he trying to shut me down?But no–Iknowhe’s attracted to me.He wouldn’t have kissed me the way he did if he didn’t feel the same way I do.
“I don’t care how old you are.I wanted to go on a date with you.”I take a risk and keep sharing.“I never thought in a million years I’d get to.But on this year’s New Year’s resolutions I wrote “go on a date,” and I imagined going with you.I know you might not feel that way about me–”
“I do,” he interrupts.For some reason, he looks unhappy about it, though.Instead of us both rejoicing that we’re mutually interested, he’s acting like it’s a problem.
“Maisy, like I said last night, I want you.”
“Oh.That’s…good, right?”
“No.”
I wait, but he doesn’t go on.
“It’s good,” I insist.
That muscle in his jaw works again.“I’m too ol–”
“You’re not too old for me.”
“I play rough in bed.I’m a bear, Maisy.You’re human.You’re young and innocent.Fuck, you’d never been kissed before last night.”
Hurt lances through my chest.Still, I cling to his admission like I did last night–he wants me.
