23
Sailor
I Have One Request
“HOW ABOUT PUMPKIN?”
The kitten pounced on the blue ribbon I’d borrowed from my nana’s face cream decorations. Flipping upside down, he battered the ribbon with all four feet, his little claws flashing like teeny tiny daggers.
“Not pumpkin.” I nibbled on my bottom lip, watching him like I had for hours. “What about Cheddar or Marmalade or Ginger or Rusty? Those are all very good orange cat names.”
He attacked a dust mote, hissing as if he was a ferocious tiger and not the size of a hairball.
“None of those either, huh?” I lay on my stomach in the small snug off the living room. All morning, I’d been obsessed. I hadn’t showered or dressed out of my nightclothes. The moment I’d taken the box off Zander and plonked it down in the living room, the kitten had stolen my every thought and terror.
I’d never had a pet before.
My parents weren’t interested, and my grandparents kept saying they didn’t want an animal in case they died and the poor thing was left behind. I’d tried telling them they could’ve had four pets by the time they were ready to perish but…deaf ears.
I’d always been secretly jealous of my friends with dogs or cats, and I’d been especially envious of Rosalee—a girl at school who had an aviary that took up the entire back garden thanks to her parents rehabbing wild birds. They kept the ones too badly broken to return to the wild and even rehabbed a penguin once.
“How about Penguin?” I giggled as the kitten darted into me, tumbling onto his side and rolling under my chest. Rolling off my elbows, I scooped him against my heart, utterly addicted to the purring rattle from his frail little body and the absolute wonderment that something so small could be so alive .
It made me want to cry because I wanted to be that effortlessly happy.
Then it made me mad because I had nothing stopping me from being that happy—if only I could let go of the past.
“So you like Penguin?” I sighed as the kitten wriggled closer and headbutted my chin. He smelled a little from living wherever he’d been before Zander rescued him. His whiskers looked as if he’d stuck his paw in a socket. And his ribcage was far too prominent.
But those eyes?
Good grief, they were heartstoppers.
Violently green and inquisitive and scarily intelligent. In fact, they reminded me of Zander’s eyes.
I snickered. “You know…if you were a deep red instead of ginger, you’d match the man who rescued you rather perfectly. Both redheads. Both green-eyed charmers.”
The cat meowed and yawned. He made no move to get out of my embrace, and I lay on the carpet with him, lulled into a drowsy daydream, thanks to his contented purring.
Soft images floated in my mind. Snippets of my childhood when Zander would rescue animals and do his best to fix them. Sometimes he was successful, and his parents would track down the owners who’d lost their pets, reuniting them with a happy ending. However, sometimes he wasn’t, and he’d drop into a solemn solitude full of mourning.
He has such a good heart.
I smiled a little, grateful that men like him still existed.
“See! I knew you wanted to fuck him, you slut. That’s it. I’m going to finish what I started.”
I gasped and jerked out of my half-asleep state.
The house once again pressed over me, switching from protector to jailor.
“Get out of my head,” I whisper-hissed, doing my best to forget Milton and his dangerous jealousy. “You’re not real. You’re in prison.”
“I can still hurt you, slut. Go anywhere near him, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
Breathing hard, I squeezed my eyes closed and focused on X. On his endless dark eyes and thick black hair. Even with his mask on, I could tell he was a good guy just from the way he guarded me in his arms. He’d cocooned me last night, and instead of having a panic attack at being spooned, I’d felt a level of peace I hadn’t felt in ever so long.
When I’d woken an hour or so before his nasty alarm went off, I’d had no idea where I was. Whose arms were around me. Whose hips were pressed against my thighs. I’d waited to freak out, but the fear never came, and when he sighed contentedly in my ear and hugged me extra tight, I’d slipped my leg between his and wriggled even closer.
It’d felt so right.
We fit so perfectly.
I hate that he ran away so fast.
What would’ve happened if he’d woken up naturally and found me in his arms? Would he have rocked his morning erection against me? Would he have given in to the cravings of his crush?
I didn’t know what it said about me, but if he had tried to kiss me, I would’ve kissed him back. I would’ve pulled his mask down and asked for his real name. And then I would’ve asked him to free me of the past, replace Milton as the last man who’d ever touched me, and shatter me apart with pleasure instead of pain.
Was that too forward?
“You’re a slut. I keep telling you this!”
Ugh! Burying my face in the kitten’s scratchy fur, I pushed Milton away again.
I wasn’t a slut. I wasn’t promiscuous. But I couldn’t deny that I was insanely attracted to X. Something about him set my blood on fire, and it wasn’t the mysterious appeal—although his mask truly did molten things to my insides. Ultimately, he felt familiar. Like I’d known him forever, and he would do whatever it took to keep me safe.
My phone pinged.
Oh my God, is that him?
My tiredness vanished.
The cat grumbled as I sat up on the rug and tucked him on my lap instead. My oversized jumper slung around my knees, making a perfect hammock for him.
Fumbling for my phone, I opened the text message.
X: Sorry I had to run this morning. Did you manage to get back to sleep?
The kitten yawned and batted half-heartedly at my wrist.
I scratched his tiny head. “What should we do, little Penguin?”
He meowed softly.
“Should I tell him that I’m interested in him? That I want him to touch me again? Kiss me? Is that asking too much? What if he doesn’t feel that way, and his crush is more of a hero-complex than liking me for me?”
Closing his eyes, Penguin ignored all my questions and snuggled back down.
Sucking on my bottom lip, I typed a reply.
Me: Why did you have to leave so urgently?
X: Doesn’t matter. I wish I was still there, though. I hate knowing you’re on your own in that haunted house.
Me: It’s only haunted by Nana and my nightmares. Between both of them, I guess it’s balanced. And I’m not alone, actually.
Was it wrong that I tingled with the thought of making him the tiniest bit jealous?
X: Oh? You’ve got company?
Me: Of the feline variety.
X: I didn’t know you had a cat.
Me: I didn’t until my neighbour begged me for a favour. To be honest, I think he’s the one who’s done me a favour.
X: How so? And how was it seeing him? Are you okay?
Me: It wasn’t easy, but I need to stop Milton from tainting a perfectly fine neighbourly relationship. My neighbour didn’t do anything to me. I have to remember that.
X: You don’t have to be nice to him if it’s hurting you, though.
Me: I know. But we have history with our families, and he’s super sweet. The cat I’m looking after was a stray he rescued yesterday. He has a good heart.
X: Careful. I might get jealous.
“Ahh…” I glanced at Penguin. “Could this be a good moment?”
Before I could figure out what to say, another message pinged.
X: By the way, I feel like I owe you an apology.
Me: What for? Shouldn’t that be the other way around? I’m sorry I dragged you over here so late.
X: I meant what happened in the night. I passed out when I didn’t mean to. I don’t know how I ended up smothering you, but I hope you weren’t afraid.
Me: I wasn’t afraid.
I panicked a little before adding.
Me: In fact…I was going to ask you about that.
X: Ask me what?
Me: Do you have a girlfriend?
X: You don’t know me, but the fact that I admitted I have a crush on you and watch you rather obsessively is a pretty big indication that I’m unattached. I wouldn’t be able to do those things if I was with someone. I’m not a cheater .
Me: I have a crush on you too.
It took a while for him to respond as if he needed time to process. Finally, my phone vibrated.
X: You probably shouldn’t have told me that.
Me: I told you because…the next time you come round, I was wondering if you might……………………Wow, this isn’t easy to type.
X: Type what?
Me: What are you doing tonight? Would you like to come over and watch a movie with me? I can cook something? We can get to know each other and…you could stay over again?
This time, his reply was even longer and when it came, it splashed me with ice water.
X: Unfortunately, I have to go away for a couple of days with work.
Tears burned my eyes, my emotions far too close to the surface. Probably unhealthily close to the surface.
Me: Oh, no worries! That’s fine. Completely understand. Of course you have other things to do.
X: Lori, don’t do that.
Me: Do what?
X: Lie.
I slouched.
Me: You know, you should leave a girl with some dignity. Calling me out for lying when I say it’s fine that you refused my offer of a date isn’t very nice.
X: It’s not that I don’t want to say yes.
Me: But you’re saying no anyway.
Pained bravery made me send another text.
Me: You call me out on my lie, so I guess that means you want me to be honest. Alright then…how about I’m totally, brutally honest in a way that petrifies me but what do I have to lose?
X: That’s all I want. I just want you to heal and be happy. I don’t mean to upset you in any way.
Oh God.
Could you stop being so nice ?
Glancing at the ceiling and the drying seed heads and herbs that permeated almost every room in this house, I swallowed back fresh fear.
Penguin sensed my stress and nudged my hand.
“I really, really shouldn’t say this. I know I shouldn’t. If it was to any other person, there’s no way I would, but…he’s different. He’s the one who took it upon himself to hear all my secrets. What’s the point in keeping this one?”
The kitten scrambled off my lap and padded toward the kitchen.
My phone pinged but I focused on Penguin instead. I had to feed him again. I’d given him breakfast and my heart had melted when he’d sucked on the bottle, drinking down his formula like a dainty pussy cat, only to dive headfirst into a bowl of wet food and snarf up an entire packet with no manners whatsoever.
He’s hungry again.
Zander would never forgive me if I didn’t provide the best care possible to his little rescue.
Climbing to my feet, I followed him, loving the sway of his long tail and falling madly in love as he looked over his shoulder and meowed as if making sure I was following.
Scooping him from the floor, I placed him on the counter while I mixed him another bowl of formula. He didn’t wait for the bottle this time, slurping it right from the saucer.
While he got a milk moustache, I pulled up the message thread.
X: What did you want to be honest about?
Leaning against the well-loved sink, I sighed as warm sunshine coated my shoulders from the window. I put every last shred of my self-worth on the line.
Me: I can’t speak for other women who lived through what I did, but for me? The physical abuse was the first hurdle to get over. But the thing with bruises and broken bones is, they heal. They heal rather fast and eventually you look in the mirror and there’s no evidence of being hurt at all. The second part is the guilt and shame. I keep thinking it’s my fault that he hurt me because I didn’t see who he truly was. I was blind and let myself down, and I know it’s not rational, but I still feel responsible—like I can’t trust myself anymore because I didn’t see the signs that had to be there. Which leads me to the third thing.
I pressed send but didn’t wait for his reply.
Me: What happened that night stole away my self-worth and my sexuality. For a while, I hated my body for being so weak and unable to fight back, but…being in your arms last night reminded me I like being small because being comforted by someone bigger (who I trust) is the best feeling in the world. I didn’t just feel protected last night, I felt cherished, and it’s been a very, very long time since I felt that.
Me: Which leads me to the fourth thing. I think the thing that’s holding me back the most from healing is accepting who I was before. I’m tiny compared to most people. I’m not the bravest but I do like being with a man who treats me right. I suppose what I’m trying to say is, I like intimacy. I like sex. And for a very long time now, both those things have been tainted. I have a crush on you, and you have one on me. We both don’t have expectations of where this is going, and I’ll admit that I’m terribly attracted to you. This is so hard to write, but…I want you. Even if it’s just one night. I want you to remind me how to let go and not be afraid of touch. I want to be free of these debilitating memories. So my totally brutally honest confession is…I want you to sleep with me.