Bared to You

"I can't. You know I can't. Eva, stop fighting. Listen to me."

"Everything you're saying hurts, Gideon."

"It's not the right word, Eva," he pressed on stubbornly, his lips at my ear. "That's why I haven't said it. It's not the right word for you and what I feel for you."

"Shut up. If you care about me at all, you'll just shut up and go away."

"I've been loved before - by Corinne, by other women...But what the hell do they know about me? What the hell are they in love with when they don't know how f**ked up I am? If that's love, it's nothing compared to what I feel for you."

I stilled, trembling, my gaze on the mirror's reflection of my mascara-smeared face and bedraggled wet hair next to Gideon's ravaged beauty. His features were overcome by volatile emotion as he wrapped himself tightly around me. We looked all wrong for each other.

And yet I understood the alienation of being around others who couldn't really see you or chose not to. I'd felt the self-loathing that came with being a fraud, portraying an image of what you wished you could be but weren't. I'd lived with the fear that the people you loved might turn away from you if they ever got to know the true person hidden inside.

"Gideon - "

His lips touched my temple. "I think I loved you the moment I saw you. Then we made love that first time in the limo and it became something else. Something more."

"Whatever. You cut me off that night and left me behind to take care of Corinne. How could you, Gideon?"

He released me only long enough to scoop me up and carry me over to where my bathrobe hung from a hook on the back of the door. He bundled me up; then had me sit on the edge of the tub while he went to the sink and pulled my makeup removal wipes out of the drawer. Crouching in front of me, he stroked the cloth over my cheek.

"When Corinne called during the advocacy dinner, it was the perfect time to make me do something stupid." His gaze was soft and warm on my tear-streaked face. "You and I had just made love, and I wasn't thinking clearly. I told her I was busy and that I was with someone, and when I heard the pain in her voice, I knew I had to deal with her so I could move forward with you."

"I don't understand. You left me behind for her. How does that move us forward?"

"I screwed up with Corinne, Eva." He tilted my chin back to rub at my raccoon eyes. "I met her my first year at Columbia. I noticed her, of course. She's beautiful and sweet, and never had an unkind word to say about anyone. When she pursued me, I let myself be caught and she became my first consensual sexual experience."

"I hate her."

That made his mouth curve slightly.

"I'm not kidding, Gideon. I'm sick with jealousy right now."

"It was just sex with her, angel. As raw as you and I f**k, it's still making love. Every time, from the very first time. You're the only one who's ever gotten to me that way."

I heaved out a breath. "Okay. I'm marginally better."

He kissed me. "I guess you could say we dated. We were exclusive sexually and we often ended up going to the same places as a couple. Still, when she told me she loved me, I was surprised. And flattered. I cared about her. I enjoyed spending time with her."

"Still do, apparently," I muttered.

"Keep listening." He chastised me with a tap of his finger to the end of my nose. "I thought maybe I might love her, too, in my own way...the only way I knew how. I didn't want her to be with anyone else. So I said yes when she proposed."

I jerked back to look at him. "She proposed?"

"Don't look so shocked," he said wryly. "You're bruising my ego."

Relief flooded me in a rush that made me dizzy. I threw myself at him, hugging him as tight as I could.

"Hey." His returning embrace was just as fierce. "You okay?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm getting there." I pulled back and cupped his jaw in my hand. "Keep going."

"I said yes for all the wrong reasons. After two years of hanging out, we'd never spent a full night together. Never talked about any of the things I talk to you about. She didn't know me, not really, and yet I convinced myself that being loved at all was something to hang on to. Who else was going to do it right, if not her?"

He moved his attention to my other eye, cleaning away the black streaks. "I think she was hoping that being engaged would take us to a different level. Maybe I'd open up more. Maybe we'd stay the night at the hotel - which she thought was romantic, by the way - instead of calling it an early night because of classes in the morning. I don't know."

I thought it sounded terribly lonely. My poor Gideon. He'd been alone for so long. Maybe his whole life.

"And maybe when she broke it off after a year," he went on, "she was hoping that would kick-start things, too. That I'd make a bigger effort to keep her. Instead, I was relieved because I'd started to realize it was going to be impossible to share a home with her. What excuse was I going to come up with to sleep in separate rooms and have my own space?"

"You never considered telling her?"

"No." He shrugged. "Until you, I didn't consider my past an issue. Yes, it affected certain ways I did things, but everything had its place and I wasn't unhappy. In fact, I thought I had a comfortable and uncomplicated life."

"Oh, boy." My nose wrinkled. "Hello, Mr. Comfortable. I'm Miss Complicated."