Surging forward, I cup the back of his neck and pull him in for a desperate, searing kiss. He opens for me, and I can taste it all on his lips. The future I thought I’d never have. With him. Breathless, I break the connection, resting my forehead against his. “It’s not too soon. It should be. You’re right. But it’s not. You make me feel likemeagain.”
“You’re trying to distract me,” he whispers. “It’s not going to work.”
“No?” My hand slides up his thigh, but he stops me, brings our joined hands to his heart, and holds them there.
“I know there’s more, Q. And I know I’m not going to like it. Will you tell me?” His breath whispers over my cheek, and fuck. I want to. But once I do, nothing will ever be the same again, and for just a few more minutes, I want the illusion. The normalcy. Just two people, sharing one of the best meals I’ve had in ages, building something I hope won’t crumble into dust in the light of day.
“You put a lot of effort into dinner, darlin’. And I haven’t had steak this good in a long time. The rest of it…I think we’re going to need cake. A hell of a lot of cake.”
I see the battle raging in his eyes. The need to know. The need to fix whatever’s wrong. Or at least fight it. Beat it to a bloody pulp. But a moment later, his gaze softens.
“No more talk about that asshole until cake? That, I can do.” Tipping his head, he kisses me. It’s just a quick peck, but with the promise of so much more. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, baby. Even if it kills me.”
* * *
After the dishesare done and I cut us a ridiculously large slice of chocolate cake, we move to the couch. “I half expected you to toss the cake into the trash,” Graham says with a small smile. “Hell, I thought about doing it myself. But that won’t make the past go away. Tell me the rest of it?”
My stomach twists into a knot, and I pat the cushion until Clementine jumps into my lap. “After three months together, Alec took things too far. I was starting to see through his lies. I found a new therapist, and she helped me understand what he was doing to me.” The kitten kneads my thigh, and I play with a tuft of her soft fur. “I left him. For almost a month. I called it a break, told him I needed some space to figure shit out. Either he gave it to me, or I was done. So he did.”
“But you went back.” Anger simmers in his eyes, and I stare at the cake I spent hours on.
“I didn’t buy this, you know. And it’s not from a box.” Digging a spoon into the cake, I offer it to him, and he relaxes slightly as he savors the bite.
“Holy fuck, Q. You made this from scratch?”
There’s a spot of frosting at the corner of his lips, and I reach over to snag it with my finger. The only way for me to get through the rest of this story? Breaking it up with sex. Or at least the promise of sex.
“My mom taught me. This is her Christmas Eve dessert.” I focus on Clementine’s tiny paws that never seem to stop moving. “I haven’t had it in almost three years.”
“Keep talking, baby. I’m on to your game now. Distract me with cake so I don’t freak the fuck out about what that asshole did to you.” Graham scoops up another bite and fixes his gaze on me. Completely. I can’t hide anymore. And I don’t want to.
“I was going to meet up with him to break things off. To tell him I never wanted to see him again. But he texted me at the last minute and gave me an address I’d never been to before. I thought neutral ground would be better. That I’d be stronger there. So I agreed. Turns out, he’d signed a lease on an apartmentfor us. Exactly the type of place he knew I’d love.”
“Fucker,” Graham mutters.
I offer him a weak smile. “Connor won’t use his name. Just calls him Asshole.”
“Your brother and I would probably get along just fine.”
They would. Or…will. I hope.
“What happened when you got there?” Graham prods gently, shifting close enough our thighs touch.
“I told him we were through. That I was leaving him. But he was so sure we were meant to be…” The lump in my throat makes it hard to get the words out, but with Graham so close I can smell him—all woodsy and strong—I swallow hard and close my eyes. “He tried to kiss me, then he was undoing my pants…”
Graham makes a sound I can only describe as a growl. Low. Threatening. Deadly.
“I tried to get away, but I didn’t want to turn my back on him. He’d scared me. Really scared me. I didn’t even see the stairs. The whole building was industrial. Concrete and glass. Didn’t realize I was so close.”
“Oh, my God. That’s how you got hurt? You could have died.” He sets the plate down and wraps his arms around me.
“There’s more,” I whisper.
“I want to tell you to stop. Right now.” We’re both shaking, and Graham presses a hard kiss to my neck before drawing back just enough to hold my gaze. “But that’s not going to help either of us.”
“I was in the hospital for ten days, I think. Surgeries, pain meds…I was a mess. But Alec…he took care of everything. Never left my side. I was so doped up, and I thought…” Swallowing the nausea crawling up the back of my throat, I focus on Clementine’s purr and the warmth of the man sitting next to me. “The two months after the accident…they’re fuzzy. But Alec convinced me to sign over power of attorney to him. He moved me into that apartment. Right next to where I’d fallen. He told me the doctors didn’t think I’d ever walk again. That I was confused all the time because I’d suffered permanent brain damage.”
I know the moment Graham figures it out. His hands ball into fists, knuckles cracking, and a vein at his temple starts to throb.
