Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
HAYAMI
PRESENT
The fire dwindles, along with the conversation, as dawn on our tenth day here draws close, bringing with it the quiet certainty that we’re truly alone up here—and likely to remain so.
I dreaded where the conversation was going, afraid of what I might do, considering I straddled him in my sleep.
I’m not sure what came over me. Maybe it was my subconscious trying to complete the mission I’d set for myself all those weeks ago, or maybe I was acting out my most recent fantasies.
Whatever it was, I need to tread carefully.
Fenrir has shown no signs that he feels the same way about me.
I don’t want to make a fool of myself, especially since we could be spending a long time up here together alone now that Willa is definitely not coming back any time soon.
“I should go to bed,” I say with a slow yawn. “I’m worried about you getting so little sleep.”
“It’s fine,” Fenrir says, brushing off my worries. “I’m used to it.”
“First thing in the morning, you’re going to get some sleep. I insist,” I reply, levering myself up from the rug.
He stands, picking up our glasses, which he drops off in the kitchen before following me upstairs.
Fenrir checks the windows of my room, under the bed, and the en suite. I wait dutifully outside until he gives me the all clear, then scoot into the room and gather my loungewear so I can take a shower.
“I won’t lock it,” I tell him, just before closing the door.
It’s a relief to be alone, but also a torment. I don’t want to be away from him, yet I need some air, some space, a second to collect my thoughts.
“Someone who will give you what you need, not just take what they want.”
His words dance in my brain. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but now that he’s pointed it out, I see what he means.
The guys I’ve tried to get with have always been interested in one thing: getting what they want.
But I’m also guilty of this—purely using them to get one up on my father.
They haven’t been interested in me or my needs, but neither have I.
Do I want my first time to be built upon a mutual understanding in a toilet cubicle?
No, of course I don’t. If I had it my way, my first time would be momentous, with someone I care about.
With someone who makes me feel like I’m the most special person on this planet.
Someone who I can’t stop thinking about, and who wants me as much as I want them.
I’m old enough, and enough of a realist, to know that I probably won’t love the guy I lose my virginity to.
That’s old-fashioned, what you read about in fairy tales.
It’s not the real world. But I want it to be with someone I feel something for.
Someone who makes my toes curl. Someone I respect.
Someone who knows what they’re doing. I don’t want an inexperienced young guy, a selfish man.
I don’t want to be left wondering what all the fuss is about.
I want to be worshipped.
I want to be taken.
I want to be ruined.
Turning the shower on, I notice the hardness of my nipples, the goose bumps over my skin, and the fact that the door is unlocked.
And before I can stop it, the fantasy of Fenrir walking through the door and joining me in the shower is back, and there’s no way I can stop it.