Chapter 28
28
VAUGHN
5 days later
I n the days since I’d spectacularly failed at touch therapy, I’d maintained an emotional distance between Hope and me. If we didn’t talk, we couldn’t flirt. I’d hidden every one of her colorful sex toys in case she tried to tempt me into her bed again. I even tried being less of an overprotective pain in the ass at Javi’s, although I hadn’t been very successful at that part.
I tossed a tennis ball on the lawn for a tripod shepherd cross named Buck. No, Chuck. It was hard to remember so many names. To stay out of Hope’s way and to pass the time, I took the dogs out of their pens for one-on-one sessions. It suited me. The dogs were decent company, and entertaining them offered a small distraction from thinking about Hope nonstop.
She’d done a solid job training them. The dogs were all eager to please, obedient, and gentle natured. They’d make great pets for any family.
“Good boy,” I said, giving Chuck a scratch on the back of his neck when he dropped the ball at my feet.
After taking a drag on my cigarette, I threw the ball again.
For all my efforts to establish a professional relationship like Hope and I should’ve had from the beginning, nothing quelled my urge to be near her. To touch her. To pull her against me and breathe in the delicious scent that was uniquely hers. Nothing except the crippling fear of hurting her again, because every time I thought about the bruises I’d left on her fine-boned wrists, my stomach turned to concrete.
For so long, the notion of another human laying their hands on me had seemed utterly repulsive. I’d have rather scooped my eyeballs out with a spoon. But fuck, I wanted Hope’s touch. I craved that level of intimacy with her. That had to mean something, didn’t it?
Maybe Hope was right. Maybe with time and practice, being touched wouldn’t be as triggering. After all, I had let go of her wrists. Not quickly enough, but I’d come to my senses faster than ever before.
What if I let Hope bind my hands so there was no way I could hurt her? Being restrained sounded as fun as using broken glass for bodywash, but I’d do it for her. Besides, I trusted Hope. If I told her to stop touching me, she’d comply right away. All the ways we could modify desensitization therapy to keep her safe flooded my mind. Why hadn’t I thought of this sooner?
Did it even matter? I’d fucked things up with Hope on all fronts. It’d be a miracle if she didn’t hate me already.
Perhaps it was time to stop being miserable and start making things right. It had to be worth a try. I didn’t want to leave here with things so strained between us.
My phone rang, so I pulled it from my pocket and checked the screen.
The cigarette fell from my parted lips when I read the caller’s name. “No fucking way.”