AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 8
Our home.
Did he seriously just say that, or am I actually losing it?
For a moment while he’d had me perched on his thick hip like a toddler, I was sure I’d been half-dead, or severely drunk at the minimum. But now, as I stared into his pretty eyes, I saw nothing but honesty.
“O-our home?” I sputter.
Fred nods sharply, tightening his hold on my chin. God, why do his soft fingers feel so good against my skin?
“We don’t have a home, Fred,” I state, even as I lean into his touch. I don’t know Fred, but somehow, I’m already addicted. It’s like that one time I mistook cocaine for sugar and doused my coffee in it. That was nine years ago, and I still crave the high.
Okay, it wasn’t an accident, but hell, I was in college. Can you really blame me?
“Listen,” he drawls, smoothing his thumb over my jaw. “I understand this is all a lot. You’ve been through something traumatic tonight. But I can’t go another second without telling you how I feel…” I wiggle in my seat, excitement and anticipation making my stomach dance.
Fred freezes, his eyes searching mine. Whatever he sees makes him sigh and drop his hand. “Never mind. It’s too much. Too soon.”
No!
He starts to close the door, a forlorn look etched across his pretty face, and panic races through me.
“Wait!” Reaching out, I grip his tank top and tug him back. “What were you about to say?”
He shakes his head, looking lost, sad. Is it possible he’s noticed this strange, magnetic connection, too? Fred’s lips move, forming words I can’t quite make out, but have me on the edge of my metaphorical seat. But not the actual seat, because, hello—butt plug.
Say it.
Say it.
Come on, tell me!
“I’m sorry,” he finally murmurs. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. You’re injured. I’m a professional. It was inappropriate of me.”
I suck in a sharp breath. He can’t mean that, can he?
Loss thrums through me, hot and acrid. For some reason, the sudden need to be brave, for fear of missing out on something incredible, fills me until I’m nearly bursting! But that’s not me. I don’t initiate. I don’t admit my feelings first.
Doing so leads to bad places.
Take tonight, for example. I initiated steamy toy sex and wound up on an episode of Undressed and Terrified. Well, not really, but that’s how it felt.
Admitting feelings makes you vulnerable.
Doing it first sets you up for rejection.
Rejection sucks.
I’m still fighting with my chaotic thoughts when Fred lets out a long, resigned sigh. His shoulders drop and he gives me the saddest smile I think I’ve ever seen. Almost as if he’s giving up before we’ve even begun. It forces me into action.
“I feel stuff, too!” I cry out. Fred freezes in his tracks. His eyes are wide, his expression hopeful.
“What do you feel?” he asks cautiously.
Come on, Story, be brave! For love!
Do it for your future babies!
