18. Scott
CHAPTER 18
Scott
T here’s a ringing in my ears preventing me from actually hearing anything now that her words start sinking into my brain.
She asked me to stay quiet, so I’m going to let her finish. But if I heard what I think I just heard, she’s going to need to say it one more time. Mostly for me to actually believe that she really said what I think she just said.
“When we first met, I had a crush on you, which I think you know.” She gestures her hand in my direction. “Then you blew me off in the car that one time.” Her face turns so red it’s actually fucking adorable, she’s been vulnerable with me before, but not about herself, not about how she feels, and certainly not about me.
I open my mouth to say that my rejecting her in the car when we almost kissed was for a reason but her eyes narrow, so I shut the fuck up.
“I know it was for a good reason at the time, I’m not saying it’s not. But I just…” She rakes her hands through her hair even though it’s tied up and gets her fingers jammed. She looks truly distraught.
“Apollo could have died.” The words get stuck, fragmented as emotion captures her body. We’re barely six feet into her apartment, we aren’t even really into her living area, and she’s casually dropping bombs about her emotions.
Well, it’s anything but casual, stress and anxiety and grief are holding her body prisoner, the way she’s standing, how she’s holding her body, the emotions etched on her face, the way she can’t truly stand still. It all screams distress, and all I want to do is pull her into my lap and hold her till it passes, but she needs to get this out, and the least I can do is listen to her.
“He could have died Scottie.” She tries again, but this time her eyes well with big, fat tears that drop down her cheeks. She presses her chest, like the pain of potentially losing her brother is so overwhelming to her that her body hurts.
I can’t watch her in pain like this, I can’t. So, I step toward her. She holds a hand out to stop me. “I need to get it out.” She leans forward like the pain is making it hard to breathe, and my own breathing constricts.
If I could take her pain and make it my own it wouldn’t be a question, I’d do it in a nanosecond.
“And if he died, Edith wouldn’t know how much he truly loved her. Like, more than a friend.” Her words come out between heavy sobs and shuddering breaths. “I don’t think she has any idea. Or maybe.” She swallows hard. “Maybe she knew and was just ignoring it thinking it would go away eventually.”
She shakes her head making more tears fall. “It’s me. I mean me. If something ever happened to you, Scott.” The raw and unmasked agony in her eyes steals my breath away, and I can’t stay so far from her, I take another step despite the warning in her eyes at my movement.
“It just hit me, probably the way it hit Pollo.” She sniffs, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “You’d never know how I felt if s-s-s-something happened.”
I step up to her, she braces a hand on my chest, clenching her fingers to grab a handful of material on my shirt.
She cups my face with her soft palm, and as much as my eyes want to flutter closed and absorb this moment, I can’t stop looking at her. The urgency swimming in those expressive brown eyes primes my body for action. If she asked me to walk through the fires of hell itself I would.
“I l-l-love you, Scott Raine. I’ve always loved you.” She holds my stare so I can see the emotion laid bare in her eyes, and it’s so overpowering my breath gets even more restricted. “I w-will always love you.” Her shoulders sag as though saying what she just did took a behemoth effort.
Her eyes tell me she wants to say more but her lip trembles, her cheeks are tear streaked, and she’s just been through a severe trauma. “Shhhhh.” I cup her face with my palm like she did to me, she closes her eyes and turns her head into the warmth of my hand. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
She nods into my hand. “You’ve always got me.” Her words come out on a sigh, and her eyes snap back open like she didn’t mean to let them out.
I nod my reassurance at her. “I do.” I don’t want to drag her through a lengthy conversation about what this means, but I need her to know I love her too. I need her to know I love her with my whole chest, my whole fucking existence, I was put on this earth to love this woman with all I am and all I have.
“I love you, Athena. I’ve always loved you.”
Tomorrow, I’ll tell her that I was scared to let myself, that at first I was scared of her brothers, and that I’m one hundred percent sure that loving me will be the worst mistake of her life, but for now, I just need her to know that she’s loved.
I bring my face closer to hers, she wasn’t seeking to kiss me, and she didn’t have that look people get in their eyes before they want to kiss someone. But it’s the quickest way I know to tell her everything I need to.
She nods. I pause. Our breathing gets heavier.
Once we cross this line there’s no going back. It’s like lighting the end of a fuse, my body’s already sparking to life at the idea of being able to kiss the woman I’ve only ever dreamed of kissing.
She stares at my lips, then back at my eyes, and there’s a silent plea within.
We’re drawn to each other, like magnets, or planets caught in each other’s orbits. The air is charged with anticipation and more than a small amount of relief, like even the cosmos is glad we’re finally giving in to whatever this is between us.
Her eyes flick to my lips one more time, and when they meet mine again, it’s clear ‘whatever this is,’ is straight up love. There’s no other word, no hiding, no pretending, it’s pure, unadulterated love, and it’s so fucking overdue.
I brush my nose against hers, sucking in a deep breath and capturing everything about this moment. I want to immortalize it, remember every sensation, every smell, every brush of our skin against each other. She smells of hospital coffee and whatever perfume she has on.
I gently press my lips to hers, it’s not an earth shattering, all consuming, life changing kiss. Not at all. It’s not filled with impatience, or feral need, and it certainly isn’t desperate.
As she parts her lips to accept my tongue into her mouth, there’s no clashing of teeth, no battle of tongues, no urgency.
It’s a lazy kiss, a kiss cumulating years of pining, years of right girl wrong time, years of someday maybe. She sighs into my mouth as her body softens against mine. I kiss her deeply, holding one side of her face as I pour into her years of yearning and fear of taking the next step.
After what feels like only a second and an hour at the same time, our mouths finally part and she looks up at me. I kiss her forehead. “Bedtime.” I don’t mean naked bedtime, though my hard cock is pressing against her like a fucking baton. I’m hoping she ignores it and lets me put her to bed.
She nods. “Thank you,” she whispers.
It’s like we don’t need to talk or explain. I get it. I understand what she needs without her having to tell me. I take her hand in mine, leading her through her apartment to the one room I have never entered.
My heart flutters and my stomach tightens. I don’t have time to be giddy, I don’t have time to be anything other than what she needs me to be.
I pick her pjs up off her pillow and hand them to her, then turn to face her door while she gets changed.
She giggles. “You don’t want to see me naked?” Her voice isn’t heavy with suggestion, more uncertainty, or even dare I say it, self-consciousness.
“Athena, I’ve wanted to see you naked since the day you stopped to pick me up at the side of the road in your oversized winter coat. But I’m merely a man. If I see you take your clothes off, my last remaining thread of restraint will snap, and I’ll stop being a gentleman. You need sleep, not sex. And when I worship every inch of your naked body—and trust me, when I say I’m going to worship every fucking inch of your naked body—I want it to be because we both want it, not because you need to escape trauma. Not for our first time.”
Her hand slips into mine from behind, and when I turn to face her, she’s wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts and not the pjs that were on her pillow. I tip my head in question.
“I didn’t want to tease you with something lacy. As much as I’m soaking wet and aching for you, I need sleep.”
Fucking hell this woman is going to be the death of me.
I hiss out a slow breath, shaking my head.
“What?”
“It’s not what you wear that makes me want you, Bright Eyes. I don’t want you any less with your nipples poking through that t-shirt than I would have if they were covered in silk and lace.”
It takes all the strength I have just to kiss her forehead and leave it at that.
I unbuckle the belt on my jeans and drop my pants to the floor. With that movement, I’m not asking her if I can stay, I’m telling her. She might be the big boss lady most of the time, but I refuse to leave her alone tonight, and I refuse to sleep across the hall in the guest room. It’s too fucking far away.
As I pull my shirt over my head, she mutters something under her breath in Spanish that sounds like “my god, you like to test me.” Then she sees it and gasps.
Before I’ve even dropped my shirt onto the floor, her featherlight fingertips graze the space over my heart. Her eyes swim with confusion, curiosity, and another wave of unshed tears.
“What is this… Gizmo?” Her fingers sear my skin as she traces the tattoo of an owl over my heart. I guess we’re doing this now.
“You know what it is.”
She shakes her head. “It can’t be. How long have you had it?”
I shrug. “Since shortly after we met.”
“What if we never got together? What would you tell people?” Her eyes are wide, and her voice breathless as she speaks.
Another shrug and a lazy smile. “That I like owls? That it reminds me of someone I love? Athena was often shown with an owl by her side, Bright Eyes.” I swallow hard. “I guess part of me hoped that someday I’d be your owl. And that you’d be my Athena.”
It sounds stupid now the words have come out of my big mouth, but instead of laughing at me, she leans forward and presses her lips against the inked skin. She slides her arms around my waist and holds me against her for a long moment. Did she fall asleep? She holds me for so long she may be.
I stand her up, making sure she won’t fall on her face, pull the sheets back from the bed and usher her inside. When she’s in, I climb in after her and make her the little spoon to my big spoon.
For the first time in my life, I feel truly content. And for the first time in my life, I drift off to sleep with the woman I love pressed against my chest.