“Grace.” Need roughens his voice, the word ragged in the quiet of the room. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I need…you, Aaron.”
He stiffens, his gaze snapping to mine. Wonder, grief, and hope flicker across his face in a heartbeat.
The first time I called him Aaron, he almost came undone. I’m not sure how I even knew what AJ stood for. But I know what it means to him.
Everything.
“I never told you… I couldn’t. It had to be…yours.” Tears deepen the blue of his eyes. He blinks them away, then dips his head to press a light kiss to my nipple.
My core trembles, and I arch my back, silently begging him for more.
AJ parts his lips, and—oh, God—scores his teeth over the tight nub. I moan, the sensation shooting all the way to my clit.
“More?” he asks, whisper-soft against my breast.
He’s so careful with me. Gentle. Tender. In his arms, nothing can hurt me. Not even my own fears.
I hook my leg around his, tugging him closer. “More.”
Easing me onto my back, AJ stares down at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world. In this moment, I’m not broken. Not scared. Not alone.
His hard length presses to my hip. The scent of him—of his need—stirs a faint memory.
I blink, and it’s not early afternoon anymore. It’s morning. The summer sun streams through the window. AJ—younger than he is now, without the lingering grief in his gaze—struggles to kick off his boots, his hands tangled in my hair.
A kiss to the underside of my breast brings me back to the here and now. He moves lower, skimming the top of my panties with his lips. “God, Grace. You smell like heaven.”
His hand slides up my thigh, over the deepest of the scars on my legs.
My wrists ache. Pain tugs at my shoulders, so sharp and fast, all the air leaves my lungs.
AJ notices. He always notices.
“Hey.” His hand stills on my hip and he sits up. “Talk to me, darlin’.”
I can’t answer right away. Static hisses inside my head, so loud I can feel it all the way down to my toes. My throat tightens. Memories press against the edges of my mind, dark shadows I can’t see—can’t name.
AJ’s lips are moving, but I can’t hear his voice. A furrow deepens between his brows. I focus on his eyes. On the pure, never-ending love reflected there. The static starts to fade.
“Grace. We don’t have to do this. Not now. Not ever.”
The safety he gives me—the resolute promise that if I said no, he’d live the rest of his life without sex just so I’d feel safe—sends my fears retreating to the deep, dark place they hide until my nightmares set them free.
“AJ…I d-don’t remember… If they… What if they…hurt me…like that?”
He touches his forehead to mine, his breath unsteady. “Then I’ll kill them. Slowly.”
His words shouldn’t be romantic. They shouldn’t fill me with relief. But they do.
A chill settles over my skin. I want this. I want him. But most of all, I want to be me again.
“I’m scared.”
“I know.” He pulls the duvet over us, and settles me against his chest. “You’re allowed to be scared, Grace. You’re allowed to feel whatever you need to feel, whenever you need to feel it. There ain’t no timeline for healing. Even bones take a while to mend. Scared don’t mean broken.”
Tears blur my vision. “How do you always know what to say?”
