She let him.
Then she ruined it.
“I betyouget to have sex all the time,” she said. “And I haven’t had sex in forever.Forever.”
Darn, she didn’t really mean for that to sound so accusatory.
His eyebrows furrowed. “You think I have sex all the time?”
She looked him over from the tips of his perfect blond hair to the muscles of his abs. “Uh.” She paused. “I mean, you’re you.” She waved her hand up and down his torso to illustrate howhimhewas. “Women must fall all over themselves to get your attention.”
“That’s not true.” He moved her closer, which she hadn’t thought was possible.
This was nice. She was mid-panic, and he didn’t run away.
“You could have all the sex you wanted, whenever you wanted,” she continued, but this time it didn’t sound like an accusation. More like a fact of life.
His mouth pressed into a thin line like he’d didn’t believe her. But it was the truth. Take her, for instance. She’d curled her hair and put on eye makeupanddid a backbend in bed. She didn’t dothatfor anyone else.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Finally settling on, “I would very much like to continue doing what we just did. But I feel like I need to clarify a few things,” he said. “Are you in a headspace we can talk about this? Or do you need a minute?”
She held a breath, then released it.
“I’m good.” Her blood pressure was returning to normal levels. No risk of imminent stroke.
“There aren’t any other women in my bed at night.” He paused, clearly tested that statement. “Or during the day.”
Oh. Well, that was nice of him to say.
“I’m here with you because I want to be here withyou,” he continued. “I’m the one who should question what I’m bringing to this bed. Because I can never live up to what you just did.”
“Jack…”
“That’s not to say I’m unwilling to try.” He waggled his eyebrows, and the move was so adorably dorky she dissolved against him.
Her words from before—from outside—echoed in her ears.Ground yourself. Feel the connection.
She did that. Grounded herself with him. In her room. In her house. Just the two of them.
The funny thing was, with Jack there, the grounding came easier. Especially when his arms wrapped around her and held her against him. She missed that—someone to hold on to.
“I really miss being held,” she said to the air. “I’m the one who is always holding now.”
“April,” he said her name on a growl. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me want to fix things for you.” His hand stroked up and down her side, comforting. Grounding.
She moved her fingertips through his and brought their joined hands to her mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Does anyone ever fix things for you, Jack?”
That got her a low rumble of a laugh. “Now you sound like Rachel.”
“Thank you for coming here and showing me how to breathe again.” For showing her how to want again. Not to settle.
She had never been the kind of person to hold back. She used to shoot straight.
Back in the day.
