39. Chapter 38
Chapter 38
Blake
T he first thing I noticed when I stepped out of the bathroom was that AJ had, much to my disappointment, put on a t-shirt. I could no longer see the ink covering his chest and back in separate but interwoven, intricate geometric patterns. My fingers itched to trace the hypnotizing blend of thick and thin, black lines. I wonder if there’s a story behind them.
The second thing I noticed was his gun, or more specifically, my lack of fear. It had scared me earlier. No. The nightmare, and the crash when AJ burst through my door, had scared me. But not the gun itself.
I feel safe with him. I trust him.
I wasn’t sure he’d get back in bed when he returned to my room, but I wanted him to. I wanted to fall asleep, curled up in his arms, and let him chase my nightmares away.
AJ leaned against the door frame. “Want me back where I was?”
My nod was enough. He put his phone and gun on the nightstand and reclined into the same position. When he opened his arm, I didn’t hesitate to snuggle up, resting my head on his chest.
“Thank you,” I whispered into his soft t-shirt, wishing I could feel the warmth of his skin without it.
“You’re welcome.” He made lazy circles on my shoulder with his thumb. “Sorry I can’t play white noise or music to help you fall asleep.”
“It’s okay.” I yawned. “Sorry, I’m so needy.”
“Blake,” he said, lifting my chin and looking deep into my eyes. “You’re not needy. We all need help once in a while, and what you’re going through is a lot.”
“Thanks, AJ.” Propping myself up on an elbow so I could see him, I admitted my mistake. “I misjudged you.”
He grinned before asking, “Yeah, how so?”
“You’re not a big, dumb ogre.” I laughed, recalling what I said to him after he’d stopped Danny.
“Are you sure?” he asked, laughing.
“Well, you’re big, no denying that.” I let my eyes skate over his broad chest. “But you’re not dumb and you’re definitely not an ogre.”
His chest shook as he laughed.
“Unless there’s such a thing as a nice ogre.” I added, enjoying the sound of his laugh.
“I don’t know much about ogres, but I believe they’re generally mean and nasty.”
Missing the physical connection, I put my hand back on his chest, moving my fingers in a lazy circle.
“Blake,” AJ said, his voice deeper than it was a second ago. “While I enjoy the sweet torture of your touch, I’m going to have to ask you to stop doing that.”
Sweet torture? I stilled my hand and looked up at him. “Right. Sorry.”
AJ laid his free hand over mine. He held my gaze as I studied his eyes, trying to figure him out. He claimed he loved me, called my touch sweet torture, held me to comfort me, but he wouldn’t kiss me because he thought he wasn’t good enough.
“AJ?”
“Yes?”
“Why do you think you’re not good enough for me?”
“I don’t think. I know. You deserve the man of your dreams. Someone who fits your lifestyle. Someone well-dressed, smart, rich. Someone your father would approve of.”
Did that describe the man of my dreams? Not really, but having my father’s approval was important to me. It always had been. So, like the good girl I was, I’d dated men he approved of. I’m not nearly as strong or independent as I thought I was.
None of the men my father approved of made me feel half of what AJ did.
What do I feel for AJ? I wasn’t sure, but I knew how I felt when I was with him—safe, comfortable, seen.
The answer was no; he hadn’t described the man of my dreams. I dreamed of finding someone like the heroes I'd read about.
Never in a million years would I have anticipated needing one.
“I used to want that. At least that’s what I told myself. It’s what my father wanted for me, expected from me; and I wanted to please him.” God, I sound pathetic . I’d always believed I was confident in who I was, what I wanted. But I wasn’t. I was merely comfortable in my role.
Emotions flashed across AJ’s face too fast to read. Hope, maybe. But I couldn’t be sure. Sadness, for sure, because it was still there. But why?
“You deserve someone gentler, kinder,” he paused, “less angry.” He brushed my cheek with the back of his fingers; his touch was the softest, most reverent I’d ever felt.
Gentler? Kinder? No one had been kinder to me than AJ.
Sure, they were nice on a surface level, but none of them would have held me the way he did, the way he is . They wouldn’t put my needs first, or stop me from kissing them because they didn’t want me to regret it in the morning.
“You’re wrong. You’re one of the gentlest, kindest men I’ve ever met.” I said, poking his rock-hard chest to emphasize each word.
“Blake,” my name sounded like a prayer on his lips.
“I mean it. You’ve been kinder to me these last few days than anyone else my whole life.” Except my mom and dad, but that was a given. Parents had to be kind and gentle with their kids.