“Okay, so back to why I’m here so early. You needed help to get dressed, so let’s do that.”
Clearly frustrated with the steel wall I’d erected between us, West ripped the super-soft cotton shirt off his shoulder and held it out for me to take. Rolling the shirt just so, I situated the head hole over his short hair and carefully slipped it down, making sure it didn’t snag his glasses.
“You’re too good at that.”
“Well, I have been dressing myself for a while,” I remarked.
“I meant deflecting, shutting down what you’re thinking or feeling, and shifting the conversation away to something safe.”
Humming a noncommittal response, I helped him thread the shirt sleeve over his injured hand, followed by the other.
“Thank you. Way easier with help.” A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, popping both adorable dimples on his scruff-covered cheeks.
“Those dimples should come with a warning label,” I grumbled as I situated the shirt so it wasn’t twisted andawkward. My fingers itched to brush against his rippled abs, to dip beneath the thick band of his boxer briefs.
“Ah, yes, I’ve been told that a time or two.”
I huffed out a laugh and rolled my eyes at his cocky tone. “I’m sure you have.” The back of my knuckles skimmed along his skin as I fumbled with fastening his jeans’ button. Peering up through my lashes, I found him gazing down at my hands with a heated look. “Can you do the zipper?”
Fuck, did I want him to say yes or no?
Those dark eyes met mine. “I mean, I can, but…” He lifted his injured hand. “I really shouldn’t.” And as if he wasn’t playing dirty enough with bringing attention to his injury, he stuck his lower lip out in a dramatic pout.
“I hate you.”
Lies. All lies.
“No, you don’t. You just don’t like how you’re feeling.”
“And how is that?” My fingers trembled as I secured the denim in one hand and pinched the zipper with the other, careful not to brush against the very large and obvious bulge.
“Vulnerable, exposed.”
“Whatever,” I whispered and backed up a step, then another and another until I was as far from him as possible without racing out the door.
Back sealed to the far wall, I stood frozen in place as he stalked forward, following me every step for step until he paused inches from me. Pitching forward, he pressed his forearms on either side of my head. Steeling myself, I slowly tilted my head back to meet his gaze.
“You can be both with me, Juno. I’m not afraid of what’s in here.” The tip of his finger tapped my temple. “Or here.” That same finger traced down the length of my neck and oh so softly pressed to my sternum, right over my hammering heart. “And I’m willing to wait for you to understand that I’m telling you thetruth. I’m not going anywhere just because you seem to think you’re not worth fighting for.”
Warm tears flooded my lower lids and my nose burned as I fought the urge to break down, finally give in to the exhaustion that was my daily life. “Why?” The word was more of a rasped breath that I somehow got out around the emotions clogging my throat. “Why would you? You’re really not understanding this, West, how leavable I am. I’m not fun or outgoing; I’d prefer to stay in most nights reading or playing video games than going out with friends. And of course, because I’m not lame enough, I don’t like the physical side of relationships. Sex is a chore, a payment that’s exchanged for a good mood or a job well done on something. Which is probably why I’m bad at it and?—”
He gently sealed his palm over my lips to make me stop. Dark brown eyes bored into mine. “We’re going to circle back to all that false bullshit in just a second, but first, let’s clear up the answer to your why. I will fight for you, every piece of you you’re willing to give me, because you’re an amazing woman who deserves to be fought for, Juno. I don’t know who made you believe differently, but you deserve someone who will actively listen, work to understand what you’re going through, and work every damn day to be there for you. Not because of what I’ll get out of it, but because I want to, because I care about you.”
A few rogue curls brushed against my cheeks with my disagreeing headshake. “You don’t know me, and once you do, you’ll quickly realize I’m not worth that kind of effort. I’m not,” I begged, wanting him to believe me now before I got my hopes up that he was actually different. “I swear to you, I’m not.”
That was the ugly truth that tainted me from the inside, souring anything good in my life. I had nothing to offer a partner that would make the energy and effort to break past my walls worth it.
Because deep down, I’d always known I wasn’t worth keeping.
“But what if you are?” he whispered, leaning in until our noses almost brushed. “What if what I see in you, this amazing woman who I am desperate to know inside and out, the good and the bad, is actually the truth, and everything else is only the lies someone made you believe?”
“Maybe, but I know me, West. Better than you do. And what if you don’t like the actual truth? What if you realize everything I’ve said is true?”
His long eyelashes fluttered closed as he sealed his forehead to mine. “You know little about my past, and I’m terrified that you’ll discard me when you finally find out. It’s not pretty, Juno.”
I inhaled, lips parted to deny that I would be the one to walk away, but my stomach growled, sounding like a hungry bear was in the cabin. I grimaced, cheeks warming as an embarrassed flush spread across my face.
With both brows nearly at his hairline, West slid his gaze to my abdomen before peeking back up with a smirk. “How about we put this super-deep conversation on hold until I feed you as a thank-you for helping dress me. We have nothing here, so how does heading out to Sips sound?” At the mention of the little coffee shop in town that had the best fresh-baked pastries, my stomach spoke up again. West’s cheeks bunched with a wide smile. “I’m taking that as a yes. And thanks to you, I’m ready to go.”
