Page 116 of A Sweet Destruction

Ford opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then corrected. “It’s clear we were both good at hiding how we were really feeling.”

It was a testament to how much had changed that I was able to laugh at that.

“Now that I know,” he continued, “I think that medication affected me too. Like it was putting a cap on feelings or thoughts that should have broken through, not ever letting them get past a passing observation. I think that’s why I was being grumpy and rude and distant. I knew that I shouldn’t have felt any ounce of indifference towards you. You are far too precious to have anyone near you who doesn’t recognize that.”

Ford leaned close, as if he had a secret to share, just for the two of us. “Now, I’m seeing very, very clearly.”

I felt a tear slip out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t feel ashamed of the swell of emotion, but I didn’t want Ford to think it was caused by anything other than happiness. Maybe a touch of anguish for my younger self who believed she’d done something to deserve his rejection. But good, mostly good.

“In fact,” Ford said, running one finger down the slope of my nose, “I’m bursting with ideas.”

My answering smile was all the encouragement he needed.

Chapter 25

Ford

There was a nonzero chance that Esme’s smile had the power to physically drug me.

Every time the Bond or my own mind or the world outside started to press in on me, one smile out of her—even the barest uptick at the corner of her mouth—and I was lulled back into submission.

It was why, though I should have been physically depleted on multiple accounts after the day I had, that my body felt like it had just awoken from a nine-hour sleep.

I rolled Esme back under me, my chest pulling tight at the way her eyes brightened with amusement.

There was also a solid chance I was dreaming. Maybe dead. Maybe one of those arrows had found a home in the middle of my back and this was the peaceful afterlife the religious believed awaited us.

Surely, I didn’t have Esme flushed and naked beneath me. My vision was sharper than before, attuned to every little freckle, every faint line, every curve of her features.

“I think,” I said, propping myself up over her so that she was caged in by my arms. “That I’ve had a lot of time do to what I wanted. I think you should tell me what you wanted.”

Esme breathed in sharply through her nose, the sparkle in her eye twinkling more intensely. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said with a false air of shyness. Her eyes tracked down to my mouth then back up to latch onto my eyes. “What do I want?”

“Oh no. That’s not what I said. I asked what you wanted. Past tense.”

The little line of confusion that formed between her eyebrows was so cute, I had no choice but to bend down and kiss it. Esme batted at my chest playfully, in a move full of such ease, that I felt a flash of blind rage that I’d never met version of her that was open with touch and affection before this.

Reminding myself that the only way to remedy that was to show her—over and over and over again—that opening up to me was safe, I kept the anger off my face. “I want to know what you used to think about. What you wanted to do seven, five, two years ago.”

There was a slight challenge in my voice, daring her to correct me and claim that the medication had wiped away all traces of interest.

Esme squirmed under me, though I couldn’t quite tell if it was just to torture me or because she was avoiding answering.

Probably a little bit of both.

“Come on,” I goaded softly. “Tell me.”

Esme blew out a breath, pushing her lips outwards as she did. Obviously, I had to take advantage. That brief interlude seemed to calm her nerves, a fact that sent the Bond spinning out with glee in the back of my mind.

“I..I imagined you losing control,” she said, whispering just between us. At my answering hum, she continued a little more assuredly. “I imagined that the roles were reversed and you were the one who was suffering.” I wanted to fight her on that assumption, but the truth was, I hadn’t suffered like she had. It made me sick to my stomach just to think about. “That you’d finally snap one day and just throw me over your shoulder and run away with me. Take me into the woods and…”

Esme trailed off with a blush. Too bad, I was already entranced. “Come on, sweetheart. Keep going.”

“You would be so mad that I made you wait so long, so you’d make me wait and…”

Ah. She might have gone silent, but I understood her all too well. “Not let you finish?”

Her nod was small, barely more than a dip of her chin.