“I need to let off some steam. You game?”
“Fuck yeah!” He’s in the ring before I can even finish my first bottled water. He smirks, bouncing on his feet. “I’ve got a new move. I can’t wait to knock you on your ass.”
“You can try, young Landry.” I spread my arms, egging him on, totally bullshitting him, since we’re the same age. “Show me what you got.”
“Oh, Lord,” Jonah sighs. “I better get the med kit.”
Reese drops her purse on the kitchen table. “What the hell happened?”
There was a change of plans. I left before she did.
Deciding I’d better pick up some supplies and dinner before she saw me, I texted her before I left the gym, letting her know I’d meet her at her place.
Her worried gaze scans my face, and she sighs. “You need ice.”
I’ve done that, but I don’t tell her. Having her hands on me, taking care of my stupid ass, is next-level heaven.
She takes the food bags from my hands and orders me to sit. I lumber to the couch while she fiddles in the kitchen.
Still glaring, she approaches slowly, as if I don’t know how her pussy tastes. “Why are you hesitant?”
Her being unsure around me is not okay.
Close enough to grab, but too far to be sitting on my lap, she stops. “I, uh, don’t… I was going to straddle your lap, but you’ve put this thing between us. I don’t know what’s appropriate.”
The fuck? Appropriate?
I grip her hips and pull her down, sucking the yelp from her lips, claiming what I’ve obviously been neglecting—her.
Her ass on my thighs and her beautiful pussy hugging my cock, or as she put it, straddling my lap, we kiss like we’re starving.
Which I am.
I haven’t let myself indulge in her body, her fire since the night before the funeral. I couldn’t get enough of her then. I can’t get enough now.
The frozen ice pack touching my black eye jerks me back. “Fuck. Warning, baby.”
She wipes her lips dry.
I’m tempted to wet them again. But the steel in her gaze has me settling into the couch, my hands adhered to her ass. “I’m sorry, Kitten.”
Cupping the undamaged side of my face, she gently holds the pack over my banged-up side.
I need to ease her reticence. “I want to tell you what’s going on, but I’m not ready. I’m still trying to come to terms with it.”
“Is it about your mom’s letter?”
“Don’t know. Haven’t read it.”
“Cam,” she chastises me, and I love it. My girl is not afraid of speaking her mind—at least to me. Everyone thinks she’s such a mouse, but my girl is a lion in hiding.
I see you, Reese.
She continues, her scowl growing, “You can’t face your problems if you ignore them. Whatever is going on is obviously big enough to distract you from your friends, your career, from—”
“You,” I finish for her, not sure she would’ve put herself on that list. She should have listed herself first. Her eyes watering reinforces the extent of my fuck-up.
“Kitten.” I sink my fingers into her hair on the back of her skull and pull her to me.
She nuzzles into the crook of my neck.
“I’m sorry, baby. I don’t want to push for physical stuff when I’m fucked in the head. But me not being in your pants doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
She nods but stays silent.
“I’ve always wanted you, Reese. From the first moment I laid eyes on you till this very moment, my want of you only grows. I’m trying to protect you, not push you away. I’m sorry that message got confused. I should have come right out and told you. Talked about it.”
“It’s okay.” Her warm breath teases the skin of my neck and has Cocky getting ideas. “What happened to your face?” Sitting back, she dries her tears on her sleeves, keeping one hand on the ice pack.
“Cowboy went one way. I went another. His new move ended up with his heel in my face.”
She frowns, studying my head as if she can spot damage within. “You have a concussion?”
“Nah, I’m good.” I kiss her mouth and pat her ass. “I need to eat, though. How about you?”
She jumps up smiling. “I could eat. What did ya bring?”
“Chinese.”
“Yummy.”
My girl saunters off to the kitchen. I lie back on the couch, closing my eyes for a minute, needing to ease the growing headache.
Fucking Cowboy. Last time I let him try a new move on me without talking it through first. I was anxious for the adrenaline rush and release from fighting.
Turns out, nothing soothes me better than telling my girl how it is: I’m fucked up and need time, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want her.
We have things to discuss.
But food first.
The last bite of noodles slithers down my throat as I stare at my Shadow. He’s clearly lost his damn mind—or I have.
“Just hear me out,” he continues, having finished devouring his dinner long before me. “You didn’t even notice when Jonah and Walker touched you today.”
I noticed. Kinda. “I was distracted.”
He hits me with his dimpled smile. My girly parts wave, flagging him in.
“Exactly. You were distracted by me.”
My brow cocks. “Arrogant much?”
“It’s not arrogant if it’s true. You feel safe with me.” He captures my hand, kisses it before setting our joined hands on his lap. “It means a lot that you do.”
“But now that I know, it won’t be effective, will it?”
“I don’t know, maybe it will. Do you get anxious worrying someone will touch you?”
I let out a big breath. “All the damn time.”
“I hate to think of you stressed out and I’m not there. Maybe we work on some of the more common stressful situations. Like walking through crowds or simply shaking people’s hands. Does it bother you if you initiate it?”
“Typically no, but I also rarely shake people’s hands.”
He nods. “Then let’s start there. Small steps.”
I toy with my bottom lip, pinching it between my fingers. “Okay.”
I have a feeling the guys at the gym are going to be casually touching me a lot. But for the first time in… ever, that doesn’t scare me.
“What’s the goal?”
“The goal is to get you okay with passive touch. That a simple grip of your arm won’t send you into a PTSD episode but allow you to assess the situation to determine if it’s a friendly touch or an aggressive one you need to put a stop to. We want to reset your instinct to go into self-defense mode rather than PTSD mode.
“If Drake hadn’t triggered your fear and dropped you into PTSD shutdown mode, you might have been able to escape the room or simply lay him out with a well-placed strike.”
He goes on to discuss my other two triggers: loud sounds and the dark, and his plan for both.
“You’re not in this alone. I’ll be right there next to you, holding you at first, then slowly I’ll give you space but still be near if you need me.” He shrugs. “It’s not foolproof, and we might fuck it up, but you’ve got a whole family ready and willing to support you. Let us.”