His cheeks and neck blotched with embarrassed color, and he ripped his hands away from me with a strangled sound. “I’m sorry. I thought—I shouldn’t have. Forgive me.”
Then he was up and out of my bed, fleeing my room like it was on fire. My bedroom door shut hard behind him, rattling my windows. And I sat frozen on my bed, the need to cry rising within me until I choked on it.
I almost didn’t go after him. His abandonment cut deep, and I was left hurt and embarrassed and thoroughly confused. His actions—coming from anyone who wasn’t Gideon—were clear. But he was Gideon. It didn’t make any sense.
It didn’t help that he’d run off like a coward the second I tried to understand what he wanted from me. Did he think I was rejecting him? Had I misunderstood his intentions?
Breathing through the frustration, I crawled out of bed and chased down my annoying boyfriend. I checked his office first, not really expecting him to be there. He wasn’t. So I climbed the stairs as irritation and humiliation twisted together until it was a ball of anger in my gut.
With carefully controlled knuckles, I knocked on Gideon’s door. There was no reply, but I did hear shuffling. My forehead met wood, and I blinked through the burn in my eyes as I knocked again.
“Gideon?” I tested the knob, finding it locked. “Please, open the door.”
Two doors did open, but they weren’t Gideon’s. I glanced over my shoulder and grimaced. Noel watched me sadly as Jai scowled in concern. He took a step toward me, but I shook my head. His frown darkened, but he withdrew into his room with a grudging nod. His door shut, and Noel sighed.
He offered me a supportive half-smile as he followed suit, shutting his door, leaving me to deal with this alone. Because whatever this was, it should remain between me and Gideon. As much as I wanted to let my Committeds comfort me, I needed to deal with this.
“Gideon, don’t—” My throat swelled shut, and I had to start again. “Please, don’t shut me out.”
When he didn’t open the door, my heart shredded, and tears threatened to fall. I pressed my palms to the door and fought the urge to blast it open. But force wouldn’t fix this. Patience would.
So I said, “I love you, and I hope you come back to bed.”
Then I stepped away from the door and walked toward the stairs. Because I wasn’t going to beg. I wasn’t going to plead for his time or his words. We were partners, and he had to meet me halfway. Shutting me out wasn’t fair, and I wasn’t going to stand outside his door all night and grovel when I’d done nothing wrong.
It went against my instincts. I was used to begging and pleading, for taking blame every time something went sideways. But I was trying not to be that boy anymore. Because I was worth more, and so were my angels.
So, as much as it broke my heart, I walked away.
Chapter Seventeen
Once I made it back to my room, I was almost in full-crying mode as the hurt and irrational guilt crushed me. I threw myself onto my bed and buried my tears in my pillow. Of course, my pillow smelled like candy canes and dirt, which did little to calm my pain.
Lost in emotion, I didn’t hear my door open. The mattress depressed at my side, and I was gathered into familiar, strong arms. I fought him at first because I was angry at him for making me cry, but he was stronger than me—he always had been.
He said, “I’m so sorry, darling. Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry for walking out on you. It’s inexcusable. Forgive me.”
Even as I pressed my face to his neck, I said, “You can’t do that. That’s not fair. Did I do something wrong? Did I—”
“No,” Gideon said fiercely, his breath hot on my ear. “No, this was me. This was all me. I’m sorry.”
“I love you,” I said.
His lips met my forehead, my cheek. He missed my mouth, catching my jaw as he said, “I love you too. I should’ve… I was embarrassed, and I reacted poorly. Forgive me.”
“I was confused.” I straightened in his embrace, straddling his lap. “You were… and I thought… I didn’t understand.”
Gideon cringed, face still splotchy from his shame. “I know you didn’t. And I should have explained instead of running off like an insecure child.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong.
“I’m sorry if I was pushing you,” he said quietly, and I screwed up my face in bewilderment.
“You weren’t pushing me. I didn’t get why you wanted—I mean, you tried—I didn’t want to get carried away,” I said, frustrated at myself for not having the right words.
Clearing his throat, he smiled sheepishly. “I guess I did. Want you to get carried away.”
It took me several long seconds to comprehend his claim, and when it finally registered, my jaw dropped. “W-What?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his thumb rubbed the base of my skull as he gathered his courage. “I thought, maybe, getting carried away wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” When I could do nothing but gawk at him, he continued. “I know you’re a sexual being, and I hate that you feel you have to hide it from me. I don’t want you to be ashamed of what you need.”
“But you—you don’t—” I sat back on his thighs and narrowed my eyes. “I’m confused.”
“So am I,” he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle. “But just because sex isn’t something I particularly want, it doesn’t mean that it disgusts me.”
My brain short-circuited. “You want to have sex with me?”
Gideon shifted beneath me, and with nothing but our underwear separating us, it was clear he wasn’t aroused. “I know sex means different things for different people.”
With an impatient huff, I framed his face with my hands. “Please, don’t speak in riddles, not about this.”
“Yes, you’re right.” He released my neck and circled my wrists with his fingers, turning his head to kiss my palm. “I’m not talking about penetrative sex. I don’t think that’s ever something I’ll want. But I don’t want you to hide this part of yourself from me. I’d like to share this with you. If you’ll let me.”
“But you don’t have to. Gideon, you’re enough. What we have is enough.” I rubbed our noses together. “There’s nothing lacking. It’s okay that we don’t… have sex. Okay? I love you, and you show me that you love me every single day. We don’t need sex for me to know—”
“I know,” he interrupted me, grip tightening on my wrists. “And I’m so grateful that you feel this way. But I want to share everything with you.”
“You already do.” I kissed him lightly. “Did I—have I made you feel like I need more from you? I never meant—”
He cut me off with a firm kiss. “No, darling, you’ve never made me feel that way. Not once.”
“Then why?”
“Because I love you. Because I want you to be comfortable sharing every part of yourself with me.” His lips whispered over mine. “Because your pleasure and happiness are important to me.”