"I figured," she says. "Well, can I help in any way?"
I shake my head, knowing very well how beyond help I am. "You already have, but thank you."
"Money doesn't bring happiness," she says.
"I agree."
"You know what does bring happiness?" she says, biting down on her lip.
I decide not to answer, needing to remain in a safe zone here because I know that look she’s giving me. The message she’s conveying is quite clear. Under normal circumstances, I go for that look, but right now, I know I can’t. Thinking if I don't react, she'll move on, I'm quick to see how wrong I am. Haven flings herself into my arms, jumping up as her legs loop around my waist. Her lips are on my neck, kissing, sucking, nipping. "Haven," I say weakly.
"Tell me to stop," she says. I'm holding her up with one arm as my other hand holds us up against the rumbling washing machine. Her hands are pressed against my cheeks, and our lips are connected with intense pressure. I could fight it. I could easily remove her small body from mine. Instead, I pull us both up on the washer. Her fingertips are feathering up the center of my chest, and I'm scared there's no turning back now.
"This isn't a good idea," I mutter into her mouth.
"Which makes it the best idea," she replies softly.
"Haven." I stop her, pulling back a bit.
"Seriously? Am I that revolting?"
I hop down from the washer with her still in my arms as I sweep a fallen strand of hair away from her eye and tuck it behind her ear. "Revolting isn't the word that comes to mind."
"It feels that way," she says.
I kiss her gently, trying to prove how wrong she is, but her lips are loose, the connection feels fragile, and I can sense she doesn't believe me. "Haven, let's just take things slow. Let's be careful with this situation."
"I didn't think you were like this," she tells me. "You carry yourself differently; you look like the type who doesn't takenofor an answer, and yet, you've brought me to the point of nearly begging—bringing me to the point of embarrassment. Again.” She nods her head with anger as pain surges through her wide gaze. “So, fine, I won't push myself on you or make you uncomfortable to the point where you'll regret something." There is so much anger in every one of her words, but restraint is the only thing I have left. She knows so little about me, and I can't just shed my skin like I can my clothes, ultimately exposing the me who is hiding inside of my soul.
