Chapter Fourteen #3
I nod. “I get that. Having that response is completely understandable. You know that, right? Learning to trust your own gut is not a skill everyone knows how to do. But you’re a good person; you make good choices.”
And I’ve been leading her off the path, involving her in my dumb antics of following patients. She’s called me out when it’s been too far but how long will that last? I don’t want to influence her in a way that will make her feel badly about herself.
“Alfie. I need this thing between us to end well. When it’s all over, it can’t be like that, okay? I need to know that you’re not going to abandon me and lie to everyone about me.”
“God, Mia, I would never.” I pull her up so she’s sitting and hold her head in my hands, but her frantic eyes make it seem like I’m caging her in, tricking her into believing something that can’t possibly be true.
“I know you say that now, but I can’t go through this again.
Please. I want my life to be here in Seattle.
I don’t want to move anywhere else. I don’t want to go back to Texas.
I just want my life here, but now that we’re in this situation, we have to be so careful.
Because it won’t be your reputation that will get ruined, Alfie.
You’re an established and well-respected psychologist. I wouldn’t stand a chance.
No one would hire me if this goes wrong.
How would patients take me seriously?” She barely takes a breath, her eyes frantic with worry and I pull her into my lap.
“Hey, hey, come here. It’s okay. I’m going to take care of you, okay? Nothing is going to happen to you. Your home is here; you’re safe here.”
With me. I wish I could say.
“And if you don’t trust me after everything that’s happened, that’s okay. I’m going to prove to you that I’m a man you can trust. Okay, love? I promise you. I’ll never, ever let this situation hurt you.”
And I’m going to find the man who did this to her, make sure he’s ruined or dead—I don’t care which—as long as he never gets within a hundred miles of her.
I rock her slowly, her face nuzzled into my neck. I feel her hot tears seeping into my skin. I want them all—every tear, every worry, every thought she has—I want her to share them with me.
I’ll make every hurt go away; nothing can touch her when she’s with me. Her hair feels like silk between my fingertips as I stroke down her back.
“You’re okay, love. I’m going to take care of you,” I whisper against her ear, rocking her into me until the grip of her fingertips on my T-shirt loosens. Her breathing evens out, and instead of hiccuped cries, sleepy sighs take their place.
It’s not quite how I imagined tonight would go, but I can’t say I regret inviting her over.
Understanding this part of her. It makes so much sense that she ran back to Texas after The Morning Show debacle.
Mia’s go-to response is to run when things get tough.
And I don’t mean that as a criticism at all.
Running when she was just eighteen made so much sense.
Of course she would want to leave her town and everyone in it.
Just look at how they still treat her now, brazenly calling her out in front of strangers at the diner, as if nothing else had happened in ten years that would be more interesting than a thirty-two-year-old man preying on a teenager.
Grooming her. Having sex with her, even her first kiss.
All these milestones she should have had with someone her own age, she lost to him.
My stomach rolls with anger, and I’m not sure I have the appetite for pizza anymore.
Fuck, I want to take care of her. I drop a kiss down on her head, inhaling deeply the scent of my shampoo.
My cock swells without permission, and the shame of how inappropriate this is strikes me so suddenly I want to push her off me.
I can’t take advantage of her now, but she is writhing in my lap, the fabric of my sweatpants and the ones she borrowed from me, the only things that separate us.
Her legs widen as she sinks into position, her sex pressed right against my cock.
I know she can feel it. Her little gasp right by ear lets me know.
Fuck, I want to kiss her so bad. I want to take her to bed, show her how a real man treats a woman.
Her head lifts as my hands trail down her back and park on her hips. The blanket slipped down, but I don’t care. It’s hot enough in here, and by the way Mia looks at me, I’m sure the room could set on fire at any moment.
“Alfie,” she whispers.
Her nose almost touches mine, and I take a hard swallow. I know we’ve been building up to this for weeks, but I still feel like I’m taking advantage. She’s just been vulnerable with me about something incredibly traumatic, and I don’t want her to regret this if we go too far.
I close my eyes for a moment, bracing myself for the moment I’m going to kick myself for years to come.
The doorbell rings, and Mia rears back, slipping off my lap, awkwardly giggling, as she pulls the blanket around her.
Thank God for the pizza delivery guy because if I’m going to do this with Mia, it’s not going to be some vulnerable moment which she regrets later.
She’s going to kiss me because she wants it, because she wants me.
I decide then and there, I’m going to take this slow with her.
She’s rattled, scared, and I’m desperately trying not to give her an excuse to run. Not again. Not this time.
I know now that I want to see where this takes us. I know she’ll leave eventually. I know she wants to get a different job, something with her degree. That’s fine; that’s okay. I can deal with that. Hell, I want that for her. I just can’t have her disappear again.