At least it’s dark.
“His name was Elijah.” I stop to see if Grant’s going to comment, but all I feel are his lips pressing against my shoulder yet again. “He was my first and only serious relationship. He was my first in a lot of ways. I gave him my virginity and my heart. He took my soul and my spirit, and then he destroyed them both.” I pause, needing a break. I hate talking about this, but Grant deserves it all. I want us to move forward. I want this happy life he paints for us. I can’t have that until he knows my past. It’s mine, but it made me who I am. I need him to better understand my hesitations and insecurities.
“He wasn’t like that at first. He was nice and charming. He was never much on showing affection, but I just chalked that up to just being him, you know? Everyone has their own quirks, and I assumed that was his when it should have been a red flag.” I shudder a breath. This is harder than I thought it would be.
“I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” Grant finally speaks. I don’t know how he always knows what I need to hear.
“We dated for about a year, and I ignored all the signs. I thought he loved me, and I loved him, and it was just a quirk. He never introduced me to his friends and family, telling me he didn’t have any worth mentioning. He never wanted to hold my hand or hold me. Not like this. We were barely naked when we slept together.” Grant’s arms tighten around me. “And after, he would get dressed or simply roll over and go to sleep. I’d try to snuggle with him, and he always said it was too hot or that he didn’t like to be touched like that.”
“Fucking prick,” Grant mumbles but otherwise says nothing.
“When my lease was up on my apartment, he asked me to move in with him. I was twenty-three, and the idea of us living together made me giddy.”
Here comes the hard part. I pull from the strength his arms wrapped around me brings. “I hadn’t lived there a week when he started to make comments. Things like you’re eating again? Or those pants look really tight. Have you gained weight? Things snowballed from there. We would go to dinner, and he would order for me. A steak or something for him, and salad no dressing for me. He would make comments to the waiters that I was dieting, that I needed to lose thirty pounds.”
“What the fuck? Where in the hell would you lose thirty pounds from? That would make you too damn skinny,” Grant seethes.
I ignore him and keep pushing on. “He would then test me. He would order and let me order on my own. The first time he did, I ordered a steak just like he did. He ridiculed me the entire dinner. He didn’t bother lowering his voice, and everyone in the restaurant heard him. When we got home, he apologized. He seemed sincere. He said he was just worried and wanted me around for years to come, but my weight was worrying him.” I go on to tell him how he would say my job made me fat and that I needed to buy looser clothes to hide my fat rolls.
“I was so blinded by my love for him that I believed him.”
“You’re perfect.”
“I’m a little bigger now than I was then.”
I feel pressure on my shoulder as he rolls me over to face him. The room is still bathed in darkness, but his hand is resting on my cheek. I can envision his deep blue eyes boring into mine. “You’re perfect. You don’t have fat rolls. You have curves.” His hand drops from my face and roams over my side and hip. “Sexy as fuck curves. Tell me that you know that.”
“I’m getting there.”
“Get there,” he says. “Fuck, Rory, I hope I never meet this asshole.”
I nod, even though he can’t see me. “My parents tried to tell me, but I was lost in him. I thought he loved me. He told me often. He was doing all of this because he loved me and needed me to be the best, so he would have me for years to come. My parents—” I swallow hard. “—they told me it wasn’t right, they didn’t like him, but they knew that I loved him. It wasn’t until Grandma passed away and he wasn’t there for me that I started to see it. He didn’t so much as give me a hug. Instead he told me she never liked him, so why should he be sad? He showed up at the after-memorial service at my parents’ house. I was sitting on the couch with Aspen and eating a piece of cake, my grandma’s best friend made. It was always my grandma’s favorite. Anyway, he barged in and berated me in front of everyone. It was humiliating, but I still stayed with him. When he asked me to marry him, I agreed easily. I thought he loved me. I was wrong.”
“What happened?”
“Aspen tried to talk me out of it. She told me I deserved better, but I thought he was it for me. That he loved me, and all of his ridicule was being done out of love. Turns out it was all just a game to him. The day of our wedding, it was small, but my friends, and what distant family I had left were there. Aspen was my maid of honor.” I stop to catch my breath. I hate talking about this. I wish I could just leave it in the past.
“I’m right here,” Grant says, holding me a little tighter.
“He left me. I can still remember the look on Aspen’s face when his mom came to the door to tell me that the wedding was off. Aspen was ashen, and Elijah’s mom had no remorse. It was as if she agreed with her son’s decision to leave me on our wedding day. I never made it down the aisle.” Another deep breath. “I packed up and moved out that very same night. Aspen and I moved into our grandma’s place while waiting for it to sell. She was having issues with her roommate, and since Grandma’s was still on the market. It gave us some time to regroup, and then I found this building here the same week my parents got a contract on the house, and well, here we are.”
We’re both quiet as I will my heart rate to slow. Grant’s hands roam over my body, warming me, bringing me back from the memories to the present. His touch soothes the pain and turns me on all at the same time.
“I need to turn on the light. I need to see you. Can I do that, Rory?” he asks. There’s something in his voice that I don’t recognize.
“Yes,” I whisper. I’m scared as hell, but if he’s going to end it, I’d rather it be now before I fall any further in love with him because I’m finally willing to admit it to myself.
I’m in love with Grant Riggins.
The bed dips, and the click of the lamp follows, lighting the room with a soft glow. Grant slides back over to me and lies down, facing me. The palm of his hand comes back to rest against my cheek. “I want to erase him from your life. I want to soothe every hurtful thing he ever did or said to you.” He breathes in deeply. “I want to hurt him for what he did to you. I want him to pay for how he treated you.” He moves closer, his lips a whisper from mine. “Most of all, baby, I want to love you. I want to show you what you mean to me every single day. I want to hold you like this every night, and I want to ravish your body until you can look me in the eye and tell me that you’re beautiful, and mean it.” His breathing is labored, and his eyes, even in the dim light of the room, are a deep blue. They’re mesmerizing.
His lips close in on mine. His tongue gently dashes across my bottom lip, and I open for him. There really isn’t another option. Not when it comes to Grant. I fear that I’m getting too close, and this sweet, tender, loving guy is going to turn evil, but my heart knows better. Elijah never put forth the effort as Grant has, and he never said sweet things to me. It was always I love you, and that’s why I’m hard on you, never that he wanted to love me or that I was beautiful.