He grimaced. “God, please just…don’t.”
“No, no, it’s fine!” I insisted, grinning. “It’s not like I shouldn’t expect it. I mean, if ya were turned on, that meant ya were lookin’ all over. God, don’t make that face. I’m not tryin’ to give you shit, I swear.”
“Which makes it so much worse in ways I can’t explain,” he said, shoulders slumping as he brought his head down onto his knee. “Can we please find something else to talk about? This entire conversation has made me afraid I’ve died and gone to hell. My own, personal hell, where I have to live through a horribly awkward conversation that makes me wish an actual portal to hell would open up so I can throw myself in.”
“Stop,” I told him gruffly, because it was a bad weird to see him beating himself up over something that wasn’t a bad thing. I didn’t care if he was trying to put distance between us right now, and I reached out to grab the edge of his chair and pull him closer.
Walker flailed, legs going everywhere as his hands tried to grab the table to stop himself moving or save himself from falling as our chairs bumped into one another. That same instinct made him plant his feet on the ground in a wide stance as he stared at me with wide eyes. A complicated expression flashed across his face as he looked around, probably trying to get his bearings but also to figure out where I’d found the audacity to take choice out of the matter altogether.
I glanced down and not only was there clear evidence that his body was still turned on, I would swear it had grown more noticeable as he processed what I’d done. Which was when I remembered he had told me he’d been more turned on in the locker room because I was forceful and physical. Maybe that wasn’t just violence, but also moments like this, where I was just being a little…handsy.
I would address that later. “Ya need to stop worrying’ about whether you’re bein’ weird, or creepy, or whatever else ya got goin’ on in that head of yours, alright? If I ain’t allowed to make jokes about myself, or act like I don’t know that people look at me funny instead of someone who’s worth showin’ attention to, then you ain’t allowed to act like you’re wrong for noticin’ the same thing ya want other people to notice, got it?”
He was leaning back in his seat, not really gripping the arms of the chair as if it would save him, but it was close. “And why did you need to pull me this close to make that point?”
Which was my cue to lean in closer, making him swallow. “Because it was the best way to get ya to listen’ to me, and look, it worked. You’re listenin’, ain’t ya?”
“I am,” he said slowly, eyeing me warily.
“Good, then that means you might actually hear me,” I told him. It was probably overkill and maybe a little mean, but I put my hand on his knee. I probably would have gone higher, but that would have definitely been mean. Even then, he looked as if I’d slapped him as he stared at me with wide eyes. “So quit actin’ like you’ve done somethin’ wrong, alright? Just ’cause it’s a little weird for us don’t mean that it’s wrong, alright?”
“That it’s weird for you is exactly my problem,” he said in a thick voice. “I don’t want to make anything weird for you.”
“Don’t go worryin’ about me, alright?” I asked with a smile and gave his knee a squeeze. “I’m alright, Walker, alright? I wasn’t ready for what happened, or findin’ out ya were into melike that, but that don’t mean I’m gonna look at ya different, alright? I mean, obviously, I’m not worried about ya.”
“Well, right now, you’re making me really worried about myself,” he said, his fingers twitching on the arm of the chair.
I held back a sigh of exasperation. I had to remember this whole thing was a lot weirder and harder for him. I was probably not doing him any favors by touching him, and I had to do my best not to look down to confirm my suspicion; otherwise, he probably would have passed out on the spot. Except I didn’t know how to get him to understand that I wasn’t bothered by what we’d talked about, or what he was feeling. I knew it was a bad idea to mention that it was flattering actually, and that there was that weird feeling, but I wanted him to understand somehow.
“What are you so worried about?” I asked, because there was clearly something I’d been missing for him to be this wound up; it couldn’t just be embarrassment because he’d been ‘caught up in the moment.’
His eyes darted over my face repeatedly, the muscles in his arms bunching, and just before he moved, I realized he had been preparing to spring into action and restraining himself. When he moved, it was with a sharpness and intensity that set off a brief war inside my head. Instinct, born and forged in the crucible of life-threatening battles, almost made me lash out at the perceived threat. It was the thin but powerfully strong thread of self-control, of understanding that this wasWalker,that kept me from lashing out at him as he moved toward me.
I knew he wouldn’t attack me, but I wasn’t ready for him to kiss me.
His hands closed around the sides of my head, the tips of his fingers pressing into my skull before his lips collided with mine. The kiss was…wet; he must have licked his lips before summoning the courage to move or losing the battle with hisimpulses. His lips were soft too, but the feel of his face against mine was rougher than any kiss I’d experienced before. The brush of his facial hair against mine made a scraping noise that was loud to my ears and sent a strange wave of heat through me.
It lasted a moment before he drew away, licking his lips again, and I felt another flash of heat when the tip of his tongue brushed against my lips. His eyes were wide as he backed up slowly. His hands were limp at his sides before he reached out to grab a shirt hanging over the back of the chair and yanked it on. I couldn’t decide if I was going to stare at his face or at the now even more noticeable bulge in his pants.
He had…kissed me.
“That was what I was worried about,” he said in a husky voice that made my chest tighten. I should probably have stopped him as he fumbled with his shoes, clearly intent on fleeing his own room to get away from me. “I just…that’s why I need time.”
Kissed. Me.
“I’m sorry,” he spat out, his chest heaving, and I realized he was panicking.
But he was gone before I realized that was the perfect time to say something, to stop him from fleeing as if he had just committed murder. It was only after the door closed I realized I had missed my chance to…to what? I had no idea what I would say to him.
He had kissed me.
And I…hadn’t hated it.
WALKER
Keeping my head down,I poked at the food on my tray. I knew it was important to feed my body, but nothing at the lunch buffet had seemed all that appetizing. I could still appreciate that it was well made and tasted good, but there was no actual pleasure in the act.
It was the same with the conversations going on around me. It was obvious from the casual talk, the easy laughs, and the quick smiles that a lot of these men were comfortable with each other. The camaraderie reminded me of the better times while I had been serving, and it had always served as a pleasant source of background noise. Now, much like the food, the pleasantness couldn’t quite reach me as I sat there staring at my barely touched meal.
