“Well…you said you didn’t date…didn’t have any friends. Always had to train. It sounds lonely.”
I don’t confirm or deny that because it was lonely. She continues on. “I mean, you didn’t have a first love, or a first kiss with someone special?”
I like Sutton. I mean, a lot. More than any other woman I’ve ever known. But I see the starry look in her eyes, the utter romanticism seeping out of her pores as she laments the fact that I didn’t have what she deems to be a pretty important rite of passage. I think that means she finds me broken in some way, and while that may very well be true, I don’t like being the victim.
So I decide to give her a reminder that I am who I am, and that I’ve done just fine with the way things are. I also want to give her a reminder that there’s still a dark side to me that she can never take for granted.
“I had a first kiss, Sutton.”
Her eyes light up, just as I knew they would, and she looks at me expectantly so that I can give her some softly painted picture of my life that will make her feel better about my lack of a normal upbringing.
“My dad bought a whore for me when I turned sixteen,” I tell her in a low voice. “I wanted to ask one of my classmates to a school dance, something my dad translated into meaning I wanted to get laid. And who knows, maybe I did want that too. So it wasn’t too much of a downer after my dad refused to let me go to the dance but instead brought me to a hotel room…shoved me inside after handing me a condom. Clapped me on the back and said, ‘Have fun.’ I mean…what’s a kid to do when he walks in and sees a na**d woman on the bed. So, you see…I had my first kiss, Sutton. It just wasn’t very conventional.”
I instantly regret telling Sutton that story, because now her skin pales and there is a light sheen of moisture in her eyes. The story has sickened her, no doubt, but she pushed and I let her have it.
“Your dad was wrong to do that,” she whispers.
“I agree,” I tell her as I take a step closer to her. “He’s done a lot of things that put him straight in the monster category.”
“Like what?” she asks, no hesitation whatsoever in her voice.
I take one more step and then I’m standing toe to toe with her. Lifting a lock of her hair that hangs over her shoulder, I tug on it thoughtfully. When I lift my eyes to hers, she’s staring at me with clarity, and the look of sickness is gone from her expression. Dropping her hair and reaching my fingertips out, I skim them across her cheek. “You don’t want to know those stories.”
“Maybe I do,” she counters boldly.
Giving her a sad smile, I slide my fingers to the back of her head and grip her neck firmly. “Well, then I don’t want you to hear those stories. They have nothing to do with me anymore.”
Sutton wraps her fingers around my wrist and I think briefly of pulling my hand away from her neck, but she holds me tightly in place. “Your past has everything to do with who you are today.”
I start to point out that I’ve warned her I can be an ass**le but my words dry up when she steps in and lays her cheek against my chest. The move is tender and caring, causing my heart to lurch in response.
“But,” she says with utter defiance. “I’m finding I like who you are a lot, so maybe your past doesn’t have quite the hold on you that you think it does.”
My stomach flips inward and a hollow, bottomless feeling courses through me because she’s so wrong about that. My past controls almost every action I take and every thought that comes out of my f**ked-up head. Sutton’s arms wrap around my waist and she nuzzles against me, her cheek warm against my skin. It’s a move calculated to show me she cares for me, and the empty feeling is immediately filled with something warm and comforting.
I wish I didn’t like that feeling so much, because it pulls me in deeper. It makes me want to experience it more, which is very dangerous for both of us. For me, it will make me susceptible to her goodness. For her, it will make her vulnerable to my darkness.
Glancing at the clock hanging on my kitchen wall, I see it’s getting late. I have to get up early tomorrow for a practice skate and then a team meeting to prepare for our evening game. But I want her again, probably more than once, and I have to budget time for that. I want her to explore me as well, and this could potentially take hours.
So we better get started.
Reaching behind my back, I pull her arms away from the comforting embrace she’s offering me and lace my fingertips through hers. Turning, I lead her back toward my bedroom, neither of us needing to say another word.
Both of us know that we are perfectly happy with getting lost in each other for a bit of time. In particular, I know that the comfort of her arms provides me with a peace that I’m starting to appreciate, and even starting to crave.
Yes, I know it’s dangerous for me, but I’ve never been one who scares easily. I’m more worried about the time that will come when I’ll probably hurt her, but I’m still selfish enough to put that thought aside and take advantage of what she is offering me.
Chapter 18
Sutton
As expected after a hockey game, Hoolihan’s is packed and there aren’t any tables or booths available. I decide to order a beer at the bar while I wait for Alex and Garrett. I know from past experience of meeting Alex here after a game that it will be a while before he gets here.
I take a moment to check my phone. Brandon has finally stopped texting and calling me. I eventually called him and apologized for the way I snapped at him. He also apologized for not understanding what a crappy day I had had and said that he realized it was a little rude to just show up like that and ask me to cook dinner.