I can’t stop pacing. I’ve been hanging around the last few signings to show her I’m not going anywhere, but she wasn’t joking. This book tour isn’t an easy one.
I struggle listening to the stories they share, and usually end up waiting outside, so today I decided to hang back at our hotel to avoid the awkwardness of them all watching me run away.
Alaina is much stronger than I am. Of course the stories get to her, I see it written all over her beautiful face, but she pushes through because she knows how much these people need this. The delusions of usbeing similar have faded from my mind, because I scream my pain at others, others scream their pain at her. We are not the same. I fucking admire this woman.
I’m obsessed with everything she does, how she moves, talks, and thinks. She’s pulled me into her orbit, and I never want to leave, but I also know I still have work to do.
The universe has hurt her and I was no exception, but I am determined to show her I’m more than that. I want to be the shoulder she cries on, not the cause of her tears, and when she walks into the room with swollen red eyes and a pink nose, I nearly fall to my knees at how beautiful she looks.
She’s held it together for so long, but the weight of her work has finally caught up to her. If I want to be the one she comes to when she’s feeling this raw and vulnerable, I have to play my cards right. The last thing she needs is me getting turned on by her tears, she just needsme.
“Hey, baby girl. Come here.”
I meet her halfway and wrap my arms around her, catching her as she practically collapses. She says something, but it’s so snotty and hysterical I can’t make a single wordout.
She seems to realize it, because she tries again. “It finally happened. The daughter of one of my parents’ victims was there.”
And I wasn’t at her side.
My heart sinks for her, because what can I even say or do to help this? She knew it was always a possibility, and she kept her chin high anyway, but now that she had to look one of them in the eyes I can see why holding it together this time was impossible. “I’m so sorry, Alaina.” I hold her tighter and guide her to the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head, climbing into my lap and burying her face in my neck.
It feels so good I have to internally yell at myself not to get turned on by it. I wasn’t playing when I said she was a pretty crier, but add in the way her body feels against mine and her heavy breaths that are dancing along my throat and I’m a fucking goner.
I am not a fuck boy.
Iwillbe more for her.
But my cock doesn’t seem to hear me no matter how many times I say it.
I am not a fuck boy.
I am not a fuck boy.
She leans back, eyes red and nose scrunched. “Do you have a b—” shestops to sniffle and wipe her nose on her sleeve —“boner right now?”
Shit. Why did she notice? Does she want it too? No. Focus.
“Um... no. That’s just... blood flow, it happens to guys all day and night at random times. Just ignore it, it’ll go away.” It’s not a lie, but when it does happen, I never get this hard.
“That doesn’t sound real,” she mumbles, but she settles against me again anyway. For a few moments, neither of us say anything. I hold her and rub her back as she slowly stops crying, and when she does, she decides to tell me a little more. “I might feel like I grew up without parents because they weren’t good, but she grew up without a mom because mine killed her. She didn’t even come out and say it at first. She got through almost her whole story before I put it together.”
I can only imagine how hard that was for her, so I squeeze her a little tighter. “That’s rough, baby girl. I’m sorry you went through that and had to hold it together all by yourself, but you don’t have to anymore. You’re safe right here.”
Nodding a little, she wipes her nose on my shoulder this time and sits up again. “Look at you, saving me twice.”
I get lost in those gorgeous grey eyes as I reach out to swipe a tear off her cheek. “And look at you,” I whisper. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Huffing, she finally cracks a smile, even if it’s small. “Will you take a shower with me? I’m exhausted.”
“Of course. I’ll take care of you.”
Because I am not a fuck boy.
To prove it to her as well as myself, I get us both naked and in the shower without acknowledging my cock once. It’s not easy, in fact, it’s downright impossible when I drop down to start washing her legs for her, but I refrain from doing anything remotely sexual as I take care of her the way she deserves.
Her hair takes the longest, but by the time we’re all done and I’m holding her under the water, I finally have control of the urge to sink inside of her. It’s not as much control as I’d like, but it’s all I can do for now. “Do you want real food or junk? What will make your soul feel better?”
