“Trust hasn’t been easy since then. Especially not with baseball players.”
That one lands hard.
I rest my forehead against hers, breathing slowly, fighting the urge to break something for something that happened years ago.
“You never have to be scared of me,” I say quietly, every word deliberate. “Not ever.”
Her eyes search mine, vulnerable in a way that makes my chest ache.
“I swear to you,” I continue, my hands sliding up her back, holding her close but careful, “I will never touch you without you wanting it. I will never make you feel cornered. And I will never let anyone hurt you again if I can stop it.”
Her breath trembles slightly.
“You don’t have to protect me from everything,” she whispers.
“Maybe not,” I reply. “But I want to.”
Silence settles around us, thick but not heavy.
She presses her face into my neck, and I wrap my arms around her fully, holding her like she’s something precious instead of fragile.
Because she’s not fragile.
She’s strong.
But strength doesn’t mean she didn’t get hurt.
And as I sit there with her wrapped around me, I realize with terrifying clarity, this isn’t just desire.
It’s devotion.
And love. I’m in love, and there’s no doubt about it.
There’s no time to reflect on the thought, though.
She kisses along my neck, slow and deliberate, and a groan rips out of me before I can stop it.
But I catch her wrists gently.
“We don’t need to do anything tonight,” I say, still breathing hard. “You told me something big. We can just?—”
She pulls back, eyes narrowing.
“Don’t do that, Wilder.”
Her tone isn’t soft. It’s firm.
“Don’t start treating me differently because I told you something about my past. I’ve never treated you differently for anything you’ve shared with me.” Her fingers slide into my hair, holding my gaze. “Everything that happened in my past and your past made us who we are. Right here. Right now.”
She leans in, kissing the line of my jaw, then my neck again. Slow. Intentional.
“I missed you,” she whispers against my skin.
Another kiss.
“I want to be with you.”
Another.
