I want to make her forget anyone who’s ever made her doubt herself.
“Tucker…” she whispers, lips parted.
And something inside me snaps the second she whispers my name, like it’s both a question and an answer. I lean forward before I can talk myself out of it. Our noses brush, and she gasps—a tiny sound that nearly ruins me. My thumb strokes slow circles beneath her ear, the other hand now pressing at her lower back to keep her close because if she pulls away now, I might come apart at the seams.
She closes the space between us, but freezes and pulls back again.
“Scottie…” I breathe.
“Fuck,” she mutters under her breath and attempts to get off my lap, but I grip both of her hips to keep her in place. “I’m sorry.”
“Explain to me what’s happening inside that head of yours.”
Her body relaxes, melting into my lap again. She places both hands on my shoulders, and I can’t tell if it’s her way of keeping herself at a safe distance or for me.
“If I let you in…I won’t know how to stop.”
It’s real—too damn real.
And real means dangerous.
I rest my forehead against hers, trying to breathe past the chaos in my chest.
“Then don’t fucking stop.”
Her breath hitches, and I feel it on my lips. She’s so close I feel like she’s testing just how weak my resolve really is.
“Then let’s stop pretending,” she adds.
Jesus Christ. Something that resembles a curse or a prayer slips out of me because she has no idea what she’s asking for. My hands move to cup both sides of her face, holding her there because she feels like the only thing keeping me steady.
“You’ve had a day, Scottie,” I manage, forcing the words out. “You’re tired and…your walls are down. I’m not going to take advantage of that.”
She blinks, confusion shifting into something like hurt as she looks down at the space between us, thinking I don’t want this.
She has no fucking idea.
I lift her chin slightly, making sure she sees the truth in my eyes.
“I want you.” I swallow. “Can’t you see it, Scottie? I want you in a way that includes every version of you. Especially the ones you think I’d run from.” My thumb drags softly at her hip like I’m trying to anchor myself. “In a way that makes me want to be good to you, careful with you, like you’re something holy.”
Her lips part, not prepared for the truth to sound like that.
But she doesn’t pull away, not even a fraction.
“I want you in a way that ruins my ability to pretend with you anymore.”
“Tucker,” she says, barely audible.
“You think if you let me in, you won’t know how to stop.” I grip her hips tighter, pressing my forehead to hers. “But…now you know, I can’t fucking stop with you. I can’t breathe when we’re in the same room. I can’t think. I can’t do anything but want you in a way that scares the shit out of me.”
Painfully slow, I undo her fingers from my shirt and guide her off my lap, steadying her when her legs tremble. She stands in front of me, eyes searching mine, trying to understand the parts I don’t know how to say out loud.
If I kiss her again tonight, I stop pretending.
And once I stop pretending, I don’t know how to go back.
“I told you I’m not running from you, but you need sleep,” I say quietly.
