Chapter Sixteen
When we got to our hotel room, JC fed me pain relievers and water. Then we stripped to our underwear and headed straight for the bed, where I promptly fell asleep. He held me as I let oblivion overtake me, kissing my face and neck every so often, and almost every time I stirred, I found him still there. The day’s events had exhausted me, and I slept until almost ten at night. But when I awoke, I felt refreshed and new and cared for.
Breakfast-slash-dinner greeted me. “I tried to order eggs and bacon,” JC said, bringing me a tray with a sandwich and fries. “The grilled cheese and bacon was the closest I could get until the Owl menu at eleven.”
I sat up against the headboard and took the tray. “I don’t think I’ve ever had coffee with grilled cheese.” I added a sugar substitute and took a sip from the mug.
“Should I have gotten something else?”
“Nope. This is perfect.” It was comfort food. And I was starving. I’d already eaten half of a sandwich by the time JC got into bed beside me with his tray. He’d ordered the same, minus the coffee.
After we were both settled, he handed me three Advil from a bottle on his nightstand. “How are you feeling?”
“All right. This will help.” I swallowed the pills. “Actually, my body almost aches as much as my face.” I must have really tightened up when I realized Dad was going to strike. I was out of practice.
JC shifted so he could knead the tension in my shoulders. “God, you’re all knots. I’ll run you a bath when you’re done eating.”
“Just me? Or will you join me?” The attentive boyfriend was sweet, but it was unfamiliar and somewhat awkward. And with the bruises from my father marking my face, his treatment felt a little like pity. I’d never sensed it from him before, and I hoped a little time together, slippery and naked, would fix that. “Because I hope you’ll join me.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” His fingers slid down my back and around to tease my nipple.
I moaned, leaning back into him, my hand finding him semi-hard in his boxer briefs. I squeezed playfully.
JC put a hand over mine, stopping my exploration. “Uh uh uh,” he scolded. “Not yet.”
I pretended to pout, or actually only half pretended since there was a part of my pout that was real and stinging from the rejection.
As always, JC read me and eased me.
“Soon,” he said, then licked along my earlobe. “I should warn you—you’re going to need more energy than you have to keep up with me tonight, Gwen.” His breath tickled where he’d left my skin wet. “So eat your dinner like a good girl, and then you’ll wait until I say before we start to get naughty.”
Now that was the man I’d fallen in love with. “Then let me go so I can.”
He laughed, removing his hands from me. We ate the rest of our meal in silence, exchanging flirty glances as we did. When we finished, he put our trays on the room service cart and rolled it into the other room. He came back and stood next to the bed, studying me intently.
I’d lost the sheets while I was eating and was naked except for my panties. In our time together, JC had taught me how to enjoy his gaze. I’d learned to love it. Tonight, it was harder. I had yet to see my face, but its constant ache made me feel unattractive and uninspiring.
I forced myself not to cower as he looked at me. Forced myself to sit proudly.
After several long seconds, he let out a heavy sigh. “Look, Gwen—”
“Ah fuck, is this when you’re going to do the pulling away bit?” It was pathetic to be so insecure, but unease lay just underneath the surface. I was wary and vulnerable.
“No.” He seemed offended at the suggestion. “I told you I’m not doing that. You have to trust me.” He moved closer and put a finger under my chin. “Do you trust me?”
Trust had never come easy to me. And, yes, I trusted JC with my body, with my pleasure—but with my heart? I wanted to. I just wasn’t sure.
He sat on the bed next to me. “Come here.” He pulled me into his arms. “My life is complicated right now, and believe me, it would be easier if you weren’t in it. But, like I said earlier, you’re in it. I’m not pushing you away.” He kissed the top of my head, and I nuzzled against his bare chest, listening to him. Letting myself believe him.
“Okay.” It wasn’t very confident, but it was a start.
“We’ll work on it together. I know you don’t have a reason to believe me, yet you’re still here. I’ll try to give you reasons.” He stroked his hand along my arm. “What I was going to say before is that there are some things that I can tell you—and I want to—but would it be okay if we wait just another day for that?”
Of course it was okay. Just, with the way he was holding me…I couldn’t see his eyes, and it made it easier for me to be direct. “Can I ask you one question before I answer?”
“Yes. Maybe. What’s your question?”
Secrets were human nature. I had mine. There were very few people that I told about my father. I lied about my scars. I lied about my home life. I respected JC’s secrets because I understood what it felt like to have to hide.
But I couldn’t help wondering what he was hiding and why. How could I not? It was human nature, too. So, while I said I wouldn’t pry—and I meant it—I had to know, “Will you ever be able to tell me everything?”
He wrapped me tighter in his embrace. “Yes. Definitely, yes. And the minute I can, I’ll tell you it all.”
I didn’t know if the thing preventing him from telling me his secrets was real or imagined, but ideas popped into my head. Federal agent? Undercover cop? Hiding from the law? Really, it didn’t matter. He’d tell me when he could. I believed that. I guess I did trust him after all.
I shifted so I could see his face. “Then take as many days as you need. As long as you love me—”
“I do.”
It was my turn to cup his cheek. “That’s all I ever really needed from anyone, JC. Was to be loved. I told you it was enough. I meant it.”
He stared down at me with what I could only call awe. “Has anyone ever told you how absolutely fucking incredible you are?”
“No,” I said, a little giddy, a little embarrassed. “No one ever has.”
“You are absolutely fucking incredible. I will do my best to say it more often.” He stood, pulling me up with him so that we were face-to-face. “And tomorrow we’ll say more. The basic stuff. The stuff I can say. I want to know you. I want you to know me too. Tonight, though, I just want to love you.”
“That sounds nice.”
He brushed a kiss against my lips, but when I pressed in for more, he tapped a chiding finger on my nose. “Still not time to be naughty. It’s bath time.”
I stuck out my lower lip. “And then it will be time to be naughty?”
“We’ll see.” But he couldn’t hide the bulge in his briefs, no matter how patient he pretended to be. So I interpreted his we’ll see as a definitive yes.
* * *
JC ran the bath scalding hot, exactly the way I like it, and added some luxury bubbles that the hotel provided. I got in first and he stepped in behind me. He gave me the royal treatment—washing my body then massaging my back until my muscles loosened. When he finished, I lay back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, and we just soaked.
I was relaxed and turned on, the needy buzz between my legs growing with every minute that passed. JC was taking his time with me, though. And I knew the more I fought him, the longer he’d make me wait.
So I found something else to get my mind off my aching desire. I ran my fingers over the words inked on his skin. “I know we’re waiting until tomorrow for the sharing stuff, but how about one thing?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we each ask each other one thing and the other has to answer.” I felt his body stiffen underneath me, and I amended. “If that’s totally not what you want to do, that’s fine. I’m just curious about you.”
He stroked his hand through my hair. “Hmm. That could work. But you ask first. And I reserve the right to decline to answer.”
“That’s not really—” I was going to say “fair” and then realized none of it was fair. He’d already said that. “Okay. Fine.” I had my question prepared already, had it prepared for weeks. “What does the date on your tattoo mean?”
“Are you serious? You have the chance to ask anything and that’s what you choose?” His voice was teasing, but he bent his forearm around my waist, hiding the tattoo, as if I’d forget about it if I couldn’t see it.
Lucky for him, it was more cute than frustrating. “It’s pretty much the only thing I think you’ll answer. Besides, I really want to know. Is it something you can tell me?”
“Did I mention that you’re absolutely fucking incredible?” He squeezed his arms around me, putting pressure on my breasts, and making the buzz in my core send a high voltage flash through my veins.
Jesus, I was so lit up, so in need of an orgasm.
But I wanted to know about the tattoo. I had an idea about it, and I was burning to have it confirmed. “Are you stalling?”
“No.” His arms loosened, but he kept them around me. “I’m sincerely in awe that you let me keep my secrets. I’m an asshole for expecting you not to pry, and you’re amazing because you don’t. Thank you.”
I sat with that for a second, trying to decide if that was his way of saying, I’m not answering. And also, since I didn’t really think he was an asshole for keeping his secrets, I wondered if there was something wrong with me. I frowned. “You know, I’m starting to feel like maybe I’m not so amazing but more like an idiot. But you’re welcome. I guess. Now are you going to answer my question or not? A flat-out yes or no would help to clarify.”
“It was the day Corinne died.” Or that. That was definitely clarifying.
It was also what I’d guessed. The minute he’d said he’d been engaged, the minute he said she’d died—it was obvious she haunted him. How much of him was a remnant of her? Was there even any room for me in his world with her ghost?
I hadn’t expected more, but he surprised me. “I don’t know why I thought I needed to ink it on my skin. It’s a date I’ll never forget. Maybe that’s why I did it. It was already so permanently etched in me that it seemed only appropriate to have it etched on me as well.”
“You loved her.” Stupid. Of course he loved her. He was going to marry her. Saying it, though, helped make it real for me. So that I could look at it and see what his love for her meant about me. Selfish. Self-centered. Also, self-preserving.
“I loved her.” His tone was definite. “Now I love you.” Just as definite. “There’s been no one in between.”
“Really?” I twisted to try to see his face. But my nose hit his jaw, and all I could see was the curve of his face, the skin of his neck.
“Nope. Just you.”
I nuzzled him with the tip of my nose as I let his revelations settle over me. I was hard—I prided myself on that. But my time with JC had softened me. And I was also just a girl with girly doubts and jealousies. I was envious of this dead woman. There was no denying that. I’d have to deal with that. I imagined it might require time.
Then there was the rest of his admission. Just you. He’d said that when he came looking for me at the club, said that there was only me. And that was bigger. That was harder to hold. Because who was I? Out of everyone who must have looked his way, of every woman who slipped him a room key or a phone number, why me?
I had one guess. “Am I like her?”
“Not even a little bit. Well, actually, you’re headstrong like she was. But that’s where the similarities end.”
I sat up and turned to perch on his thigh. Pictures of a woman with dark hair and eyes filled my mind. A woman thin where I was curvy. Warm, friendly. Loveable. “Why me, then?”
“Why not you?” His eyes flicked to my breasts and back to my eyes. “Do I need to remind you that you’re absolutely fucking incredible?”
I folded my arms over my chest, wanting to have this conversation without the distraction of arousal. “You didn’t know that when you started this arrangement. What did you see in me that made you want to—”
“—have sex with you? Let’s see, blonde, perfect, round, full tits, long legs, absolutely flawless face. Did I mention the really perfect tits? I was hard within a minute of first meeting you. Painfully hard.”
“And that’s what it was? My looks? That’s why you pursued me?” I realized it was silly as soon as I’d asked. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. You were looking for a physical relationship. I’m sure you had many of them between Corinne and me.” God, I was trying to make myself jealous now.
JC put his hands on the edge of the tub and leaned toward me. “Yes. Many physical relationships between Corinne and you. Not a single one of them had me interested in anything besides where they would let me put my cock.”
He settled back, sitting straighter than he had been. “I told myself I was pursuing you for the same reason. Which was bullshit because you were a challenge, and I usually don’t like to have to work that hard to get laid.” He waited until I delivered a begrudging smile before going on. “Truth was, I saw something familiar in you. After Corinne died, I packed everything inside. I shut down. I stopped living. Then someone—Matt, actually—reminded me that she wouldn’t have wanted that. He was right. So I got the other tattoo—the Buddhist tattoo—”
“‘The current age is but a brief moment in the greater scope of existence.’”
His expression said he was impressed that I’d remembered. “Yes. And I decided to start living for today. Which didn’t work out too well at first because I spent a lot of time drunk and unconscious.”
“Waking up in strange places with no memory of the night before.” I’d remembered everything he’d ever told me. They were the things I’d clung to in my daydreams.
“Exactly. Not very productive. But when I stopped drinking, I was a lot better. Still sad, but better.”
I hated the idea of the JC he was describing. I could see him vividly, though. With eyes that held sorrow. Sitting at the piano in the dark playing mournful melodies. Those were fragments of a grief that had once likely encompassed him.
But I hadn’t been grieving when I’d met him. “So what was the familiar thing you saw in me?”
“God, when I saw you…” His face brightened in a way that made my heart pinch. He cupped my face with his hands. “I saw someone who had stopped living.”
My eyes started to fill. I blinked to keep any tears from spilling.
“But you were so beautiful, not just with the tits and the legs, but your whole being. You were beautifully strong. And I couldn’t stand that you were so absolutely fucking incredible,” he paused while I laughed, “and yet just frozen. I wanted to be there when you thawed out. I wanted to be the one to thaw you out. Without being stupid like I’d been. And because you were the first…anything, really…that had intrigued me since Corinne’s death, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
I’d never been so…noticed. It was overwhelming and breathtaking. If I didn’t lighten the mood, the tears would start falling and I really wasn’t good with crying. “You know I’m a sure thing tonight, right? You don’t need all this poetry to put your cock anywhere in me.”
“There’s no doubt that I’m putting my cock places in you tonight.”
I shivered and JC pulled me closer to kiss my uninjured cheek. “You’re also going to have to learn to accept that I love you, Gwen. And my love is big. Now that we’re starting to talk about things, you’re going to be hearing a lot about it. We’ll take it slow, if that’s what you need. But it’s not going to change what I already feel about you.”
I was speechless. It was so much easier to listen to the dirty talk. Like he’d said, guys wanted to fuck the blondes with big tits. Spreading my legs, getting someone off—that, I knew. Big love, on the other hand…
It would take some getting used to. It would take some time.
“Okay, my turn for the question. But let’s get out of here first. We’re turning into prunes.”
I let out a long breath, grateful that JC understood my need for slow love just like I understood his need for slow disclosure. Ironic how I’d been desperate for his affection, and now I didn’t know how to accept the whole of it. But I would. I’d learn. He’d teach me.
There’s no rush, I reminded myself. We have time.
JC got out of the tub first. He wrapped a towel around his waist then, when I got out, he wrapped another around me. “That’s better,” he said when I was fully covered. “Now I can concentrate on what I want to ask.”
I’d rather he couldn’t concentrate. I’d rather we were done with the emotion-filled talking. I’d rather he lifted me on the bathroom counter and had his way with me.
But fair was fair. He’d answered mine. “Go ahead. Ask.”
He put his hands on his hips where the deep lines disappeared under his towel—Jesus, now I was distracted—and asked, “What’s the story with your dad?”
Ah, mood kill.
“You don’t go small or anything, do you?” He was asking for a big divulgence. My father’s whole story should be saved or something. Shouldn’t it?
Or maybe I didn’t have to compete with his secrets. “It’s probably an appropriate question after today.”
JC nodded. Then he shut the toilet lid and sat down, his legs straddling the bowl. He held up a comb and slapped his hand on the spot in front of him. “Tell me while I work on those knots.”
More royal treatment. Big love. I could do it.
“Okay.” I sat on the small space in front of him. Immediately I realized the benefit of this. I could tell him without looking at him, just as he’d been able to tell me without looking at me. I was beginning to think it was him who was absolutely fucking incredible.
I looked down at my hands as he pulled the comb through my hair. “There’s actually not a lot to tell. He worked hard, yet we were always poor. Maybe that’s why he was always so angry, I don’t know. I’m sure his dad hit him too. Learned behavior. He wasn’t so bad when my mother was around. Probably because she let him beat her instead of us.”
I still defended him. It was the craziest thing. I wondered if I’d ever get over that.
I closed my eyes. “After she died, Norma tried to take the role of protector. She stood up to him. She also wasn’t around a lot. She took odd jobs whenever she could to help put food on the table. Then she graduated with honors and got a full ride to Columbia. She tried to see us whenever she could, but we lived in Jersey. It was hard for her to get over there. So we got hit. A lot. I learned how to avoid his worst moods and how to try to keep him happy, but sometimes there wasn’t anything to do but take it.”
JC didn’t say anything. He just kept combing my hair, tugging when the teeth got caught. I leaned away when he pulled, enjoying the bite of pain. Letting that be where I focused my emotion rather than on the pang in my chest that showed up when I started talking about my family.
“Anyway, when I was seventeen, he beat my brother up so bad he had to go to the hospital. Broke several of his ribs. His nose. Punctured his lung. He was twelve. Know what set him off? He saw Ben checking out a man in a magazine underwear ad. I guess he thought he could beat the gay out of him. There’d been a lot of times that social services had been called in our lifetime and things never happened. But this time they did. And Norma stepped up. She’d graduated and had a good job. She got custody of Ben and me until I was eighteen, and Dad went to jail for ten years. He just got out last week. Today was the first time I’d seen him in a decade.”
I don’t know when JC had finished with my hair. I only realized when I was done talking that he wasn’t moving, that both of his hands were on my upper arms, that the comb was on the floor at our feet.
He wrapped his arms around me completely and pulled me into him, his face pressing against mine. And he rocked me. Just rocked me.
I appreciated his silence. It wasn’t pity. It was compassion. It felt good.
I brought my hands up to rest on his arms. “Thank you,” I said, my voice tighter than I’d realized.
JC placed his lips at my temple. “I want to kiss every place he ever touched you. Every spot on your skin that was ever bruised or scraped. As many times as he covered you in hurt, I want to cover you in love.”
“It would take a lot of kissing.”
“I’m up for it.”
I had warring emotions. Part of me wanted to break down and sob. The other part of me was still tingling and turned on. I couldn’t stand the divisiveness. I needed to pick one and let myself be lost in it. “JC, about that kissing, can we do that sooner rather than later? I’m trying to be patient, but—”
He cut me off. “Yes. You’ve been a good girl. Get up. Let me drain the tub, and I’ll join you in the bedroom.”
I meant to head to the bedroom, but my reflection caught my eye as I passed the vanity. I still hadn’t looked at my face. Honestly, I’d been avoiding it. Now, I couldn’t look away. My cheek was purple and angry. A bluish tint had spread up under my eye and even over to my nose. Three darker black-blue marks sat along my bone, distinct outlines of his knuckles. I raised my finger to trace the edges, testing the pain.
We needed a picture of it. I knew that much. Evidence.
But I didn’t care much about practical tasks at the moment. I was swept up in something else. The ugly. That as much as I wanted to forget about the person who gave me half my DNA, as much as I wanted to ignore that he ever existed in my life, he’d always be marked on me. Even when the bruises faded, he’d still be there. He’d still be the source of my ugly.
JC slipped in to face me, blocking me from my reflection. “This is where I’ll start.” He took my hand from my face and held it in his. Then he leaned in and kissed along the bruises, carefully, tenderly. “Here,” he said between kisses, “he touched you here. And here.” He didn’t stop until he’d covered every tinted spot of flesh.
When he was done, he trailed his lips across the bridge of my nose to my other cheek. “How about here? Did he ever hit you here?”
I nodded, and he placed a kiss there.
“And here?” as he moved under my eye.
“Yes.”
Another kiss. “And here?” Above my brow.
“Yes.”
So it went until he’d covered my skin from my forehead to my jawline. Each gentle kiss a gesture of love. Each “and here” an acknowledgment of pain. My face was wet from my tears as he moved down my neck, and while I knew that he’d eventually press his lips against every part of my body, there was something else I needed. I needed life breathed into me in a big way. Needed my system jolted.
“JC.” I waited until he’d lifted his eyes to mine. “Be rough with me. Please. I need to know I’m real. I need to know you’re real.”
He hesitated a moment before breaking into a wicked grin. “Thank you, Gwen, for telling me that. You know how hot it makes me when you trust me with your needs.”
He proceeded to show me, claiming my lips like a predator, devouring me. Our mouths still locked, he picked me up and spun me around. He set me down on the counter and loosened my towel. This time as he moved his mouth down my body, he didn’t ask where I’d been hurt. Instead, he covered all of me. Every inch. Nipping and licking and sucking. He left hickeys on my chest. Bites that would later bruise covered my breasts. He kissed me and he marked me.
He covered me with love.
I was already moaning and writhing when his lips found my clit. My core was tight, high-strung from all his attention. So when he sank to his knees, his nails digging painfully into my thighs, and sucked the swollen bud of nerves into his mouth, I immediately found myself on the brink of orgasm. “Fuck, JC. I’m going to come.”
“Good girl. Tell me more.” He tipped my hips back and threw my legs over his shoulders, opening me wider to him.
I put my arms back and braced myself on my elbows, searching for the words I knew he liked to hear while he pleasured me. “It’s building. I’m getting tighter. God, it feels so good. You make me feel so good. You make me feel so loved.”
Fingers plunged into my wet center. The second he hit the sensitive spot against my wall, I went over. I cried out his name, my legs tightening and shaking while my whole body—every nerve ending—ignited and flared with warmth.
My vision was still clearing when he brought his fingers out and used my slick juices to slide a finger into my ass. I was tight and snug, but I opened up easily to him. With his mouth still adoring my clit, and the rush from my first orgasm still clinging to me, the brush of his fingertip against my tender tissues set another climax gathering.
I surrendered then. Completely. Totally, letting the waves crash over me, through me. He was going to love me big, and I was going to resist, but here, under the ministrations of his mouth and tongue and fingers, I could let go. Here, I could let him love me whole and entirely. Here, his love was full, and I knew how to accept it.
* * *
When I was limp and boneless, JC carried me to the bed. “How are you? Can you take more?”
Despite the two overwhelming orgasms that had wrecked through me, he had yet to fill me, and I wanted that. “I can take more.”
“Good.” He dropped his towel to the floor and my eyes flew to his erection standing thick and ready. Just the sight of it sent another stirring through my veins. It hit me then, how lucky I was to have found him. This creature who could care about my body and my spirit in equal measures. This man who could fuck me and fall for me too. It was absolutely fucking incredible.
Before joining me in bed, he turned the lights down and messed with his phone until music started playing. “Is this okay?”
“I love Maroon 5.”
“Listen to the lyrics.”
I’d heard it before, but I listened now as JC turned me to my side and slid behind me. The words were about being scared, scared to love. And the singer asks his woman to say yes, to take a chance on their relationship. The title repeated over and over in the refrain—My Heart is Open.
Damn, it could have been my song for JC.
Was he trying to tell me he understood how I felt? He was always so in tune with me—it wouldn’t surprise me.
He didn’t explain the choice. As the song played, he kissed along my back, trailing his lips underneath my shoulders and along my scar there. His cock pressed into the crack of my ass, hot and hard. His hand curled around to my chest and squeezed my breast, then pinched my nipple to the point of pain. I’d thought I was spent, but with the music and his twitching erection and the way he was worshipping me, glorifying me, a new hum began to sing between my legs.
The song was over by the time he’d covered every inch of my backside, but after a second of silence, it started up again.
He rolled me over to my back and nestled between my legs. His cock pressed against my center, and I squirmed, trying to get it in the place I wanted it. But JC held me still.
“I heard it today,” he said, his eyes finding mine. “In the cab ride from the airport to the club. I downloaded it immediately. I realized it’s everything I want to be with you. I want to tell you yes. I want to be here for you until you tell me yes back. Even with the things I can’t share, Gwen, even with the words I can’t say yet, my heart is open.”
If there were such a thing as an emotional climax, I had one. Something inside me burst and spread through my chest, through my limbs, down to my toes, up to my head. It was hot. Tingly. Bliss.
His gaze still locked on mine, he entered me. In one thrust, he was stretching me, filling me the way he’d filled my heart. Perfecting me.
“Yes,” I cried. “Like that. Yes.” Yes, I love the way you feel in me. Yes, give me more. Yes, my heart is open too.
He moved in and out, not fast, not too slow. He was enjoying me. He was telling me how he loved me. He was proving his yes. His hips circled, nudging my clit. I moaned and sighed. I gasped. I sang.
And he continued to cherish my skin, brushing his fingers across my thighs and hips, finding my scars, caressing them tenderly. “As many times as it takes.” His mouth hovered above mine, his breath hot. “I will kiss away your bruises. I’ll kiss away your pain.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. His attempts to heal me were valiant, and I appreciated them more than words could say. But he needed to know the process was ongoing. That true healing would take time.
I brushed my lips against his and told him. “Most of the scars are on the inside.”
“I can be there too.” As if to prove it, he pushed my legs in toward my chest, and on his next stroke, he hit deeper in me, deeper than I thought I’d ever felt him before. Deeper than anyone had ever been inside me before.
He kissed me hungrily, licking into my mouth. Everywhere I felt him—with my lips and tongue, against my skin, inside my pussy, inside my chest and head and limbs. He infiltrated my senses and my soul.
And when his tempo picked up and he pounded into me with sharp, unyielding jabs and the tension pulled tight in my core, I held on. I waited. When we went, we went together, open and free, our climaxes uniting into one glorious, brilliant explosion.
* * *
We made love through the night and fell asleep wrapped around each other with the dawn.
I woke midmorning to his voice, harsh and angry. He was on the edge of the bed, the phone at his ear. I’d missed whatever he said, but emotion was written all over his body. He was more than angry. He was completely enraged.
He ended the call without a goodbye, simply letting the phone fall from his hands and to the floor. He stood and paced the room for half a minute before screaming, “Fuck!” and throwing his fist into the wall.
I gasped, both because he’d startled me and because violence in any form made me uneasy.
Still shaking his hand, he spun toward me, his eyes finding mine. Immediately, his face softened, but his body remained tense.
“Wanna talk about it?”
He shook his head.
“Is it one of the things you can’t say?”
He didn’t answer. His breathing had been fast and heavy, but now he took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.
Then he climbed back on the bed and knelt before me. “I want to talk about us. Let’s talk about us.” He took my hands in his. “Can we?”
“Yeah. Sure.” I was apprehensive. Edgy. Cautious. “What about us?”
He kissed the back of one hand, then the other. “I love you, Gwen. You know that I love you, right?”
“I do.”
“And you love me?” His tone was urgent and panicked. Not at all like normal.
Concerned, I shifted so I was kneeling too. “I do. I do love you, JC. What is it?”
“This is good,” he said under his breath. “This is going to work.” Then he smiled, his grin unsteady but sincere, his hands tightly wrapped around mine. “Gwen. Marry me.”