Chapter Thirty-Two
Thirty-Two
Caine
I take Gremlin out, then settle in on the couch with her.
She has bits of mulch in her fur from earlier, so I get her brush and start tidying her up.
Margot mentioned she had an appointment to be groomed tomorrow, and I don’t want the groomer thinking we let Germ wander around looking like an actual gremlin.
As more time passes with no sight of Margot, my certainty that I’ve fucked up grows.
I keep circling back to one crucial point: it’s way too much.
It’s going to overwhelm her. I know there’s a stark difference between devotion and obsession, but considering the object of my adoration only recently became aware of my feelings, this may be freaking her out.
Especially in light of the whole Nicholas situation.
Lost in worries and terrier tangles, I don’t realize Margot’s come downstairs until she speaks.
“Can we talk?” She’s showered. Wet hair drips onto the shoulders of her T-shirt, which is my T-shirt—black with a wolf skull on it, The Abattoir written in white script beneath the design. The shirt feels like a good omen; the Book of Margot dangling from her right hand doesn’t.
My mouth is chalky. “Of course.”
Please don’t hate me.
Margot settles onto the couch cross-legged, her face in the shadows. I wish I could see her expression better, but the overheads aren’t on, only the vintage floor lamp in the corner.
“That’s quite a book.” Her voice is impossible to read.
I flinch.
“I’m sorry.”
Tilting my head, I wait for her words to reshape since they don’t make sense. I must look confused, because she keeps talking.
“I’m sorry I pull back every time we get closer.” She opens the book to a page near the end.
Heat creeps up beneath my collar. A note from earlier today says, Shuts down or tries to start argument after emotional conversations. I wrote it in frustration and then never thought about it again. Rubbing the back of my neck, I give her a sheepish look. “I forgot about that one. Sorry.”
Pages flutter then still as she closes the book. “Don’t be. I needed to read it.”
“You did?”
She nods, taking a deep breath. “The last time I was vulnerable, really, truly vulnerable, was with Nicholas. Fears, wounds, depression—he made me think everything was safe with him, then he used it against me.”
Gremlin stretches then hops from my lap. Trotting across the area rug to a small rubber bone, she lies down and begins to gnaw, watching us as if we’re her entertainment.
Margot looks back at me. “I’m treating you like you’re going to do the same thing, and it’s not fair.”
I shrug. “It makes sense, though. You go through something, and it changes how you relate to people; trust me, I get that.”
“But I don’t want it to mess up our relationship, so I’m going to be more aware of my tendency to do that.” She does a little shrug. “Can you forgive me?”
However I thought this conversation was going to go, this is not it.
I want to tell her that there’s nothing to forgive, but it means a lot that she thought this hard about it.
I don’t want to diminish that. Not to mention the fact that I can’t remember anyone ever truly apologizing to me as an adult.
For bumping into my cart at the grocery store, sure, or obviously Margot apologizing after she stunned me, but not something like this, especially in a romantic relationship.
Typically, I’m the one doing the apologizing.
I’ve always been the fuckup. The one losing his temper or doing something reckless, being too loud, too irreverent, a problem.
People don’t apologize to problems. Until today I never realized what I was missing.
“Of course.” Wrapping an arm around her, I tug her across the couch to me. “Thank you.” I don’t know how to express how valued I feel.
Falling on my back on the couch, I pull her all the way on top of me. Margot settles onto me like a weighted blanket, if a weighted blanket had a fantastic ass. Unable to resist, I cup as much of it as I can.
“I thought you were going to come down here, hit me in the face with the notebook, call me a creep, and say you never wanted to see me again,” I admit.
Margot hums. “Oh, it’s creepy as hell.” Shoving her face harder against my chest, she mumbles nonsense.
“What was that?” Tickling her ribs makes her wiggle and lift her head.
“I said you’re lucky that I love creepy things.” She says the words like she’s disappointed in herself. “I like that you pay so much attention to me. It’s hot, if we hadn’t just fucked, I’d be climbing you like a tree.”
“You’re kind of a creep too.” Ignoring her indignant sound, I continue, “You watched me jerk off, remember?”
“Well played.” She contemplates. “Honestly, I’d do it again.”
That’s my girl.
Gremlin abandons the bone in favor of a plush toy moose. We watch her remove one of its antlers in silence until Margot says, “Funny how you say me watching you jerk it is creepy, but don’t mind the whole me-planning-to-kill-my-ex-husband thing.”
“He deserved it.”
“But that doesn’t mean I can just kill him,” she protests. “Does that not concern you? I tried to kill someone I loved at one point. I am the reddest of red flags.”
I shrug. “Pretty sure the only way you’ll take me out is if you fuck me to death, and that’s how I’d like to go.
” Waving away her groan, I keep going. “Look, if you’re trying to get me to tell you that you’re a horrible person, and you should be ashamed of hurting that abusive piece of shit, it’s not going to happen.
You were basically performing a public service. ”
“And that’s your red flag,” she mutters. “You enable my bad behavior. For what it’s worth, murder wasn’t plan A, or even B or C. It was way down the list. But I understand it isn’t something most people would—”
“I would.”
Her head jerks toward me. “You would what?”
“What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say murder wouldn’t make the list for most people.”
I nod. “That’s what I thought. It would for me.” Clearing my throat, I add, “It did for me.”
“Oh.”
I don’t want to ruin a nice moment by bringing Joel up, but I need to say something.
“I got into it with Joel when I was younger, and didn’t think I’d be able to stop.
” Tensing, I hope she doesn’t press, because if she asks, I’ll tell her, but this moment is so cozy I don’t want him anywhere near it.
“Mmm.” Rubbing a hand down my arm, she nestles into my chest, as if she’s trying to burrow beneath my skin. “I’m sure he deserved it too.”
Tension slowly eases from my muscles. I’m grateful that Margot’s good at reading between the lines. “He did.”
Gremlin moseys over to the couch, dragging her moose along with her.
I scoop terrier and toy up, setting them on top of us.
Margot grumbles as Gremlin turns a circle and curls up on her lower back.
We stay that way for a while. Gremlin’s snoring, and I’m ready to say we should head back to bed when Margot speaks again.
“We’re going to have to do it, aren’t we? ”
“Yep.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Just say when.”