Chapter Twenty
“I should probably go.”
The longest hesitation yet. “Okay.”
Something had been bothering me ever since I set foot in the room. I decided it would be stupid not to voice it even if the answer was going to be no. “I’d really like to see this room. Find out what it looks like.”
“What?” Justin’s voice sounded wary. That coupled with the step back he took, made it clear my request had taken him by surprise. The hand I hadn’t even realized I still had on his chest remained suspended in midair for a few seconds before I reluctantly dropped it back to my side.
“I’ve never seen it. It drove me crazy trying to think about what it looked like, how big it was, what furniture it had in it. That probably sounds ridiculous. It’s just a room.”
“No. Not at all. It’s just…”
I waited patiently for him to finish the sentence, but nothing was forthcoming. “Just, what?”
“Nothing. The light switch is on your left-hand side.” I reached out in the direction he’d indicated, smoothing my fingers over the wall at the height where I estimated a light switch was likely to be.
My fingers searched in the dark, finally brushing the edge of the plastic casing.
From there, I traced my way to the switch, my finger coming to rest on the switch.
I paused before pressing down on it. This moment felt huge.
It was stupid really, it was switching a light on.
Nothing more. Maybe it was the fact I’d been so conditioned against ever doing it, that it felt hard to break.
I pushed my finger down, immediately closing my eyes against the painful glare when the room was bathed in harsh light.
It took a few attempts to be able to successfully open my eyes as they struggled to adjust. Still squinting, my gaze fell on the bed first. It was strange to look at a bed I’d lain on numerous times.
There was nothing remarkable about it. I already knew it had a wrought iron headboard.
I’d felt it under my fingers several times.
I’d even wondered whether it would ever be utilized in the handcuffing.
It never had. Either it had simply never occurred to Justin or he’d chosen not to.
The bed itself was covered in a dark-blue nondescript duvet.
That seemed strangely out of place. On all my previous visits, there had never been anything on it apart from a sheet.
He must have removed it prior to my arrival.
My eyes drifted over to the nightstand next to the bed.
It was fairly old-fashioned. I remembered Justin saying he’d inherited the house from an aunt.
Maybe some of the furniture was left over from her tenure in the house.
Sure enough, there was a lamp on the nightstand just as I’d suspected.
The curtains were blue, their thick material obviously designed to match the duvet cover, or possibly vice versa given their special purchase.
I swiveled my head slightly, taking in the part of the room where the disembodied voice had always come from.
It was a corner containing a chair. He must have sat there, waiting for my arrival.
The room seemed considerably smaller than I’d always imagined.
I let my gaze slowly travel around it. The rest was equally unremarkable, with very little furniture, no pictures, and the walls painted a neutral cream color.
Unable to put it off any longer, I finally turned my attention to the only other thing in the room: Justin.
My gaze met his to find his brow knitted with worry, a surprising look of fear and vulnerability pasted on his face.
His hand moved immediately to his chest. Seemingly becoming aware of the movement, he grimaced and reluctantly removed it, leaving himself open to scrutiny. “Not pretty. I know. Sorry.”
It took the self-conscious gesture, along with the words, for me to work out what he was talking about.
I dropped my gaze to his bare chest, taking in the scarring I’d known about, but never seen.
It extended all the way over the left side of his chest and arm, the flesh raised in angry-looking, uneven red patches.
I followed its pathway to where it disappeared into the waistband of the sweats he was wearing.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain he must have gone through.
Probably, still had to go through. If anything, it seemed worse than the scarring on his face.
Maybe the burns on his body had been thicker.
“You should have seen it before the skin grafts.”
I lifted my gaze back to his, embarrassed I’d spent so long studying him.
He attempted a weak smile. It barely gained traction, before melting away to nothing. “I’ll put a shirt on.”
He turned toward a chest of drawers on the other side of the room.
Before he could walk over and make good on his promise, I grabbed his arm to halt the movement.
“Don’t! It’s fine. You don’t have to cover up.
I wasn’t staring because it looks horrible.
I guess, I was curious. And I was thinking about what it must have been like for you. ”
Justin shrugged, an obvious effort to make light of it, but the expression on his face said otherwise. Then we were both standing awkwardly at the side of the room. I was the first to break the silence. “So…do you feel like you’ve got…closure?”
Justin looked like he was picking his words carefully, his gaze locked on mine. “I feel…better. At least I got a chance to explain. How about you?”
I nodded. “Yeah, better.”
He smiled. That one remained on his face for longer. God! I’d missed that crooked smile. “I just wish…” He stopped mid-sentence.
“You wish, what?”
He sighed. “It’s stupid, and you probably don’t want to hear it.”
“Try me.”
He stepped forward, his hand moving tentatively toward me, When I didn’t move out of the way, he curled it around the side of my neck, the thumb softly stroking my pulse point. “You’ve given me really mixed messages tonight.”
I frowned, unsure what he was talking about. “Have I? In what way?”
“Everything you’ve said. Everything we’ve talked about tonight has come across as a goodbye—”
I opened my mouth to speak. I wasn’t even sure what I was going to say. But Justin’s tiny headshake to tell me he wasn’t finished stopped me in my tracks.
“But, then you kept touching me…and that didn’t feel like a goodbye at all.
I wish…I wish we could put everything behind us and start again.
Because”—he leaned forward, his forehead almost touching mine.
I drowned in the intensity of his gaze, unable to look away even if I wanted to—“we had something really good. Both in here, and in the real world. You may have thought it was two separate things, two separate people, but I knew for much longer that the man I was falling for in the dark, and the man I absolutely and completely fell for in the light were one and the same. Everything I did. Every wrong decision I made…was just because I was so scared of losing you.” He pulled back slightly.
“I can’t let you leave today without being one hundred percent honest.” He paused.
The look of fear was back, and he took a shuddering breath before continuing.
“What I’m trying to say, Dean, is that I love you.
The last month without you has been hell.
Thinking about what I threw away. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought through different scenarios—wondered what would have happened if I’d just opened my mouth in the restaurant and told the truth.
Or just come up with a better way of telling you than marching you here to the house. It’s driven me crazy.”
My brain was still caught on the three words in the middle of his speech. Everything had become a blur after that. “You love me?”
He nodded slowly, his face guarded, like he was already bracing himself for the inevitable rejection.
“And you still want me, even though I’ve refused to talk to you for weeks. Like a bloody child?”
Another nod.
I took a moment to contemplate what giving him another chance would be like.
What was it Georgia had once said? Something about being able to have both men: the one that was devastating in bed, and the one that was fantastic company.
Hadn’t I been in love with both men weeks ago?
Wasn’t that the reason I wouldn’t, or couldn’t, give up either?
I could walk away, and I’d be left with nothing.
Carry on the same way I had for the last few weeks: miserable and alone.
Or, I could take a chance? Justin’s hand was still on my neck.
I brought my hand up to cover it, interlocking our fingers together.
He froze, probably assuming I was going to use the grip to pull his fingers away before I delivered the thanks, but no, thanks speech. I offered a reassuring smile. “Okay.”
He frowned. “Okay, what? You’ll think about it? I can give you time. Take as long as you need. I’ll be here, waiting. Hoping.”
I leaned forward, silencing the deluge of words with my lips.
Just a brief kiss, then I pulled back. “No.” I couldn’t put together any more of a sentence.
I’d been blind, too caught up in anger, hurt, and embarrassment to see I loved him too.
It had taken him being the bigger man, the one that was far braver, to clear the emotional blockage in my own brain.
But it was too convenient, too easy, to just blurt out my own declaration of love in response to his.
What was it they said, actions speak louder than words.
I took two of the four steps needed to reach the bed, pausing to toe off my shoes. Then, I pulled my T-shirt over my head.