I woke up feeling refreshed. I woke up with a tingle down my spine and pulsing in my pelvis and desire in my eyes. I turned to look at Art, sleeping peacefully besides me, snoring lightly, and I felt my heart clench and burst and the fact that something had happened between us. Something serious. Something that took us from pretend to something... more. I didn’t know what that was. I couldn’t put a label on it just yet and maybe that was okay. Maybe I didn’t need to do that just yet. Whatever it was, it made me happy. I felt good about it.

I also knew he would be leaving soon in order to participate in the morning skate. He didn’t push himself as much during practices, especially with his age, but considering he got banged up the last two games, I couldn’t blame him.

As such, I slipped out of bed and decided to make us breakfast so he had something in his system before he left. I wasn’t domestic by nature but I could cook eggs and sprinkle shredded cheese on it. I also had bagels and cream cheese so maybe that would be light enough but also still filling.

I heard him pad down the stairs a half hour later in nothing but his boxer briefs and I had to stop myself from turning red - impossible - and staring too long at him.

He headed straight towards me and wrapped me up in his arms. He leaned back slightly and cupped my face with his hand, caressing my skin with his thumb. His tawny gaze looked deep into my eyes and I swear he could see into my soul. No one had ever looked at me this way. Not Tim, not my high school love. No one. But Art looked inside of me like he wanted to see inside of me, even the messy bits, I tried to hide from everyone including myself.

“Good morning,” he said.

I mumbled it back but I didn’t think he heard me.

I stepped back from him and waved at the dining table. “I made breakfast for you,” I told him.

“Thank you,” he said, his eyes flickering over to the table.

We sat and proceeded to eat in silence. I was trying to figure out if it was comfortable or not but since he didn’t seem to care one way or the other, I wasn’t about to worry too much about it.

“I have morning skate,” he told me, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I know,” I replied.

“I want to ask you to come with me but I don’t want to be...”

“I should probably stay here anyway,” I told him in a soft voice. “I mean, I appreciate your concern, I do, but we have to live a normal life too.  We can’t let Tim control our decisions, our actions. We can’t let him change who we are.”

Art took a long sip of his coffee, his large hand over mine, caressing the back of my hand and leaving goosebumps up and down my arm. I had no idea what I was going to do with myself. Not when he touched me like that.

“I still like having you around me,” he said slowly, after he set his coffee cup down. His eyes burned into mine and I could feel my face flush under his scrutiny. “Whether Tim was in the picture or not, I still like being around you.”

I swallowed but there was nothing in my mouth. I could feel myself start to smile like an asshole but I couldn’t pull it back if I tried. I wanted to be that cool girl with the easy smile that said, I like what you said but I’m not going to react much to it because I’m fucking cool. But instead, it came out looking like a grimace mixed with a smile mixed with I didn’t know what and I felt like an asshole.

“So,” I said and I could feel my voice crack. I could feel how dry my throat was and I hated it because I had to clear my throat. “What happened...”

“Last night,” he stated.

I couldn’t tell if he was tense because we had to talk about what happened or if it was more he wasn’t sure how to communicate how he felt about what happened. Regardless, I couldn’t tell if this was going to be a good conversation or a bad one. But I wasn’t going to stop it. We needed to have this conversation. I needed this conversation. I needed to know what was going on between us. I couldn’t continue to label it and pretend I was okay with the facade of being practically in love with him when I was really practically in love with him.

“Not just last night,” I told him.

“I shouldn’t have -“

“I wanted you to.” I probably shouldn’t have interrupted him. I knew it was difficult for him to communicate his feelings anyway and I didn’t want to scare him off. But I needed him to realize that this thing, last night, wasn’t his fault. I wanted it just as badly as he did, if not more so. “I wanted you, Art. I want this, whatever it is. I don’t want to have to pretend anymore.

“Last night was perfect.” I could feel my eyes tearing up and I almost hated myself for acting so... I didn’t know the right word. I wanted to say it was cheesy or dramatic but I knew that what I felt was genuine. And I knew I wanted him to know that I felt this way, even if I did turn into a blubbering idiot. “I... I loved it. It was satisfying and remarkable and I definitely want to do it again. If you want to do it again. Obviously. But there’s more that I feel for you than just attraction. There’s more here that I want to feel with you. And it’s not just because of what you’re doing for me. With the whole let’s pretend because of Tim. I mean, that’s how it started but it’s not that way anymore. I really, really, really like you, Art. And I totally get you’re this gorgeous hockey player and there’s a good chance I’m not even on your radar because I’ve seen the type of women you date and I do not fall into that category. Like, at all. But that’s okay.” I took a breath, realizing I was babbling again. I forced a smile, glad that none of my tears had fallen. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that.”

Art looked at me for a long time. He took a step towards me, and then another, before cupping my cheek with his hand. I immediately leaned into it, like I was a child who needed his comfort, and before I realized it, he leaned in to kiss me softly on my lips.

My eyes closed and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. I felt my entire body melt into his. He had this effect on me. He had this way with me that I hadn’t expected, that I couldn’t plan for.

When his tongue slid past my lips, I knew things would get heated and I opened my mouth, wanting nothing more than just that.

- -

Tim showed up later that night. I shouldn’t have been surprised, especially with what happened a couple of days ago. There was no way he was going to let that go unpunished, how I defied him, how I blatantly told the officers that he was responsible. I wasn’t sure if he knew he was named in a police report but that probably wouldn’t help his anger with me if he did.

When I went to the door and saw it was Tim, I grabbed my phone and called the cops. Art was already awake and pacing the hall. I knew he wanted to open the door and take care of Tim personally, but I appreciated the fact that he didn’t. I didn’t want anything to happen to him, whether he damaged his hand because he was punching Tim or end up arrested because Tim had power and influence, and what little I knew about the law said that Art could very well be both a victim and an offender in an assault. And I definitely didn’t want Art to be listed in a police report because of Tim.

A loud crash made me jump during my phone call with the police, and I realized Tim had broken my window. My heart hammered in my chest and I froze. I had no idea what to do and even as the dispatcher tried to talk to me, tried to have some kind of conversation with me, I couldn’t find it in myself to formulate words.

It was like I was back in a relationship with him, back under his lock and key, and I was never going to get free from him. My hands shook. My forehead started to accumulate sweat. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t even think.

I didn’t know how Art saw me. I could see concern fill up his tawny gaze but I recognized that he wasn’t quite sure how to handle my behavior. I couldn’t blame him. It was hard explaining that I suffered from a traumatic disorder when I wasn’t even familiar with it. After our initial breakup, I went to counseling, but after I moved, I broke ties with everyone and everything from my past life. I should have at least signed up for more counseling but I thought I would be okay because I was finally away from him. Away from these feeling of utter helplessness.

Art gently grabbed the phone from me.

“She’s in shock,” he murmured gently, as gentle as sandpaper could be. “Her asshole ex-boyfriend just smashed her window and might be attempting to break in. I have a question for you, if he does, do I have the legal right to beat the shit out of him without being charged with a crime because he’d be trespassing on property?”

I picked my eyes up. His question distracted me from my fear, distracted me from the noises currently coming from my kitchen.

“As long as he doesn’t try to come in, I won’t initiate contact,” I heard Art say. “I understand you have officers dispatched to our location, but you guys might not get here until he does something stupid. The guy tried to kill her, you know that. She filed two police reports in one day because of what he did. So, I’m sorry, if he tries to do anything to her, I’m not going to hold myself back.”

He hung up the phone and without looking at me, went to see what was going on in my kitchen. I followed him, tentatively at first, until I made it to the doorway of the dining room.

Tim hadn’t broken a window, he had broken the glass on my backdoor and actually managed to unlock it and get inside.

My heart continued to pound against my chest and I froze once again. My eyes, however, grew wide. Art didn’t even hesitate. He strolled into the kitchen like this was no big deal, and before Tim even realized what was happening, Art hit him.

“She’s mine, you piece of shit,” I heard Tim say.

“No,” I heard myself say. My voice was quiet at first, so quiet I barely heard it. But I said it louder. I didn’t know why; it was just important that I did. “No, Tim. I’m not. I’m not yours.”

And before I could stop myself, I went over to him and punched him in the face. My knuckles exploded with pain, and Tim lunged for me, but Art got in the way. Art defended me. Art beat the crap out of him.

And it was completely and totally worth it.