I walk slowly toward the bathroom door, an intrusive thought popping into my mind.I’ve never been in love.Would that fact scare Braxton away? It’s not as if we’re terribly young anymore. When I shared that fact with Jaxon—the only guy I came close to getting serious with—he called it a red flag. I, in turn, consideredthata red flag and ended things. Kirsten said it was just an excuse of mine—my way of breaking things off like I always do.
Suddenly, I’m dying to know if the fact would scare Braxton away, too. If that’s the case, I’d rather he know about it now than later when I’ve gotten in even deeper.
“Braxton,” I say, one foot in the carpeted room, the other on the tiled bathroom floor.
“Yeah?” He’s clutching a pair of checkered pajama pants in one hand, no shirt. I clear my throat, distracted by the idea of seeing that full, muscled chest of his.
“I um,” I say, feeling deflated suddenly. I walk over and sit on the corner of the nearest bed. “I want you to know something.”
He looks at me, his brow furrowing from the sudden shift in energy. “Okay.”
My neck gets hot. My throat tightens. “I’ve never told a man I love him,” I say. “Which is to say that…I’ve never fallen in love before.”
I watch his face, my heart pounding like an angry drum. His gaze moves over the carpet, then settles on a spot on the bedspread.
He nods again. “Okay.”
“Does that make you…I don’t know…scaredabout dating a woman like me?”
Braxton shakes his head and shrugs. “No, not really.”
I gulp, eyes pinned on him, inwardly trying to decode his expression, his posture, his voice. Does he mean that, or is he just saying it?
“At my brother Blaine’s funeral,” Braxton says, effectively pulling me from my musings, “a couple of kids from high school showed up—the Walker twins. A couple of miserable bullies. They had a horrible upbringing, and I figured they’d end up just like their messed-up parents if they even lived that long.”
He sighs, his gaze glossing over as he continues. “But in they come, all sympathy and success in tailored suits and sullen faces, telling me how sorry they are for my loss. And as I looked at them, thanked them, even, do you want to know what I was thinking?”
His face goes hard, eyes still fixed on a distant spot on the wall. “All I could think was,‘they made it? The Walker twins are alive and well, and Blaine’s the one in that casket. How?”
He blinks and turns to fix his gaze on me. “How?” he asks again, voice heavy and coarse. “I was bitter and angry and…and secretly wishing it was one of them. Heck, even both of them. For a solid year, I had more thoughts like that, horrible ones.”
He takes a step closer to the bed, his expression softening. “So let me ask you since that’s something that haunts me nearly every day of my life. Doesthatmake you scared about dating a man like me?”
I’m speechless as I stare at him, processing his words in my mind. As soon as they register, I rush to my feet, hurry over to his side, and throw my arms around him.
“Not at all,” I say, somehow knowing it’s all he needs to hear. “Of course not.”
It takes him a moment, but soon his hands slide around my lower back, weak at first, but then his touch grows stronger.
Braxton rests his forehead on my shoulder and sighs. “And I’m not worried that you haven’t loved some other guy,” he says into my hair. “Maybe I can be the first, the last, and the only.”
We stay in each other’s arms as the minutes tick by, somehow knowing we’ve reached another stage in our budding relationship. Just knowing that Braxton faces fears of his own…something about that makes me feel closer to him. There’s more than just a mutual attraction; we have a connection. Similar barriers that have held us back in the past.
And as I reflect on the last thing he said, I can’t help but hope that maybe, if we’re both willing to give this a try, we can get past those barriers together. Maybe one day, Braxton will become the first, the last, and the only man I give my heart to.
17
Maggie
Dart Number Three: Cupid’s Catastrophe
Ever heard of trauma bonding?
I’m back in feast-mode as I read about the next dart. I’m still floating on the high of the best date I’ve ever been on. Braxton and I shared ongoing laughter, incredible kisses, and a deep connection that has me shaking my head.This must be how people fall in love,I muse, more hopeful than I’ve been in years.
As I take in the topic of trauma bondingin Lovely’s book, I can’t help but see Braxton’s face, taut with anguish and grief. ‘Does that make you scared to date a man like me?’
My heart aches at the mere recollection. I don’t remember a time a man allowed himself to be so vulnerable around me. I hate that those thoughts haunt him, thoughts he had no control over. Thoughts he’s decent enough to realize weren’t fair or good. But they sounded—to me, anyway—normal. We’re flawed, after all, each and every one of us.
