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“Is that a bullet wound?” She reaches across the table, her fingers glide over the glossy circle.
“One of three,” I reply, focusing on the wound and not her touch, sparking life into the nerveless skin.
“Kase.” She looks at me, worry etched in her expression. She’s testing my self-control being so close and touching me. I want to pull those pouty lips to mine and devour them. Remind her how right we fit together. Instead, I pull her fingers off and drop my shirt.
“It came with the job.”
“So, everything, I read about you is true?”
That depends on who you ask. The damn internet. Full of lies and truths, often a mixture of both, a constant brew of mishmash bullshit that people always take at face value. “I wouldn’t say everything. I never wrestled a leopard in Afghanistan.”
Her laugh is everything. I don’t like talking about things I did. It was a job, one I don't regret, but to someone who wasn’t in that situation, they might not see things the way I did.
I’m a trained killer.
The man who attacked her a few weeks ago, I could’ve snapped his neck in two seconds flat. I wouldn’t have been able to get close to her having to deal with the aftermath of killing a man. After losing control with my dad, I swore to myself it’d never happen again.
“Does it scare you?” Do I scare you? “What you’ve read about me?”
She hums, picking at a piece of rice on her plate before finding my eyes. “No, actually the opposite, you make me feel safe.”
Music to my ears.
“Scars are a reminder of our journey, of who we are today; a reminder of the days we were our strongest.”
She puffs out a scoff. “I’m not so sure about that.” I hate she has insecurities. She has to see how strong she is. I stop myself from reaching out to her as she picks up my empty plate and goes into the kitchen. Her fingers wrap around the counter ledge as she leans against it, staring at me. Tell me everything, I silently plead with her.
“When I look at my scars, all I see is pain. My life changed forever after… my accident.” It changed mine too. I want her to keep talking so I keep quiet. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this…” She lets out a small awkward noise, shaking her hands out. “Especially since we’ve only been on one date. But, I need to put it out there so if you’re not okay with it, you can move on.”
I want to laugh at the absurdity. I’m not going anywhere.
“I can’t get pregnant,” she blurts out. Not what I was expecting. She blinks back her tears, fanning herself. “Sorry, I’m a mess. I didn’t mean to throw that in your lap all at once. You probably want to run far, far away.”
She’s reading my silence all wrong. I want to tell her it’s okay because I don’t want kids, but I’m almost certain that is not the thing to say. I push off my chair and stand in front of her.
Realization dawns on me I have no idea what affects the accident had on her, other than the obvious scars and memory loss. “Don’t apologize, Ellie.” I smile down at her and she looks away. She gasps when I pick her up at the waist and set her on the counter so she’s eye level with me. “Thank you for telling me. But I… let’s say it’s not a determining factor for me.”
“Don’t you want kids?”
This is a no-win question. Will she judge me if I say no? “Hmm. I’ve seen the worst this world offers our future. I have a hard time wanting to bring a child into it. But that’s not to say, I wouldn’t love one if I had one,” I quickly add.
She surprises me when she reaches out for my hand, slipping my fingers through hers. Is this what has been holding her back? I hope so. That was an easy fix.
“Thank you.” The worry etched on her face, relaxes with her smile. “I didn’t want to waste your time, if… you know…” She shrugs.
I run my fingers up her silky legs, forcing myself to stop when they hit the edge of her shorts. “Definitely not wasting my time.”
I kiss her quick and hard, erasing every doubt she has of me in her head. I want to be here. Her fingers grip my hair, her ample tits rub against my chest and a small groan slips from the back of my throat out of frustration knowing I have to stop before it’s too late. I pull back as quickly as I started, leaving her wanting more. Consequently, leaving me aching. The risk doesn’t outweigh the reward. I want her forever, not for a quick score and I’m still not sure she’s ready for the former.
“You need to finish studying and I have a meeting early in the morning.”
“You’re right,” she says, breathlessly, hopping down. She walks me to the door, leaning against it, watching me walk out. “Thanks for tonight. I needed it.”
“Anytime.” I smile wide and tip my proverbial hat.
Her eyes shine with mischief. “Cowboy, I am a little disappointed about the leopard story.”
I laugh out loud. “Is that right? I’ll make it real before date number three.”
