He takes another long draught, watching me as he does so. “That feels good, doesn’t it? Knowing that you belong? It feels amazing knowing that no matter what: fighting, loving, dying—nothing can break that bond.”
Don’t know if I’m there yet, but okay.
“It feels good knowing that she’s on board with that.”
“Now there’s you and me to contend with. I don’t think the women will tolerate much shit from us, so they left us on our own to do what we will. I don’t want to set Talia off because she can give you a migraine the likes of which you do not want to experience.”
Ha. I get those all on my own, buddy, like right the hell now.
“I don’t know if you’ve experienced what my household calls a ‘banshee’ yet, but when the kitty’s fur gets ruffled, she can split your skull like she’s roaming the moors of Scotland. It will ring in your ears for a week.”
“I haven’t had the pleasure, and I hope to hell not to, but being me, I’m sure I will. I didn’t figure the cat to be a long-distance fighter. She’s more of a five-finger reprimand in person, I’d think.”
“Oh, she’ll fight from afar if she’s busy doing something else. With that new job, I suspect we’ll all get used to the kitty wails.”
Taurus looks thoughtful for a moment. “I’ll make a mistake—kill someone in the house—that’d do it, and it will be all over.”
I blink.Kill someone in the house? Holy shit.
“She’d get so pissed. Unless she’s the one making the mess, she gets furious at people making a mess in the house.”
Taurus chuckles. “I noticed the rules don’t apply to her already. I’ll be on my toes.” Sitting his glass down, he sighs.
I wait, crossing my legs at the ankles and letting my hair spill over my shoulders. I’ll be damned if I’m going to start this conversation and get accused of anything else this week.
“About us.” He tilts his head, with an amused smile crossing his lips. “Oh, you pose well, you dramatic prat.”
I arch a brow, looking him up and down. “I’m only getting comfortable. I’m not the one leaning about in silk, looking all leading man-ish.”
“No distractions, mate. This is serious. I want to know what’s going on with you. I get that you love me. Talk to me about this. Why did you say that to me anyway?”
What sort of dumbass question is that? Is it a trap?
I give him a confused look, unsure where to start. What does he mean, why did I have to say it? I said it because I felt it, for fuck’s sake. Why else? “If you mean why did I say it then, the answer is because when I get upset, I blurt things out I wouldn’t say out loud. It’s an irritating yet persistent quirk of being me.”
He rolls his eyes. “Talk about your bad timing, mate.”
“It always seems to happen that way. It’s always the worst moment. It’s a curse.”
His frown deepens, and he shakes his head. “You’re shutting me out. You’re talking, but you’re not communicating.”
I look at the linens for a moment and then sigh. “It’s subconscious because I’m nervous. We’re on uneven footing. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do or say.”
Picking up his drink again, he nods and takes a sip, but doesn’t respond.
“With all that happened yesterday, I have a reason to be gun-shy. I didn’t expect to be here right now, and I don’t want to screw something up.” I shrug, flipping the ring in my navel, trying to keep my nervousness under wraps.
Taurus watches me for a few moments, then pads over to sit on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. He closes his eyes for a moment, thinking, and then mumbles, “I understand that. You know I want you, and you know I care. You know what you do to me when we’re—” Stopping for a moment, he takes another sip as if to fortify himself. “You’re not the only one out on a limb here.”
Still fiddling with the ring, I nod. “You’re not out on a limb with me. You know I love you. I didn’t mean to say it like that or even right then, but you know. I’m the last person to judge what you say and the first one to accept it.”
Giving me a pained look, he murmurs, “I don’t understand your love for me.”
I shrug. “I love. It doesn’t matter which chromosomes it involves. I love who I love. I always have. That’s how I work. I know not everyone works that way, and it’s fine. But I can only be me, not anyone else. That I know for sure.”
Dreadful memories, terrible memories.... shit.
The panic sets in when I say that I can only be who I am, not anyone else. I take a slow breath, and it helps… a little.
