Chapter 14 #2
Remi brings one hand up to sign the word, so much affection in the sweep of his hand, in his eyes and hanging on the corners of his lips, I don’t have to guess.
‘Pride,’ I answer with my own hand.
He nods, his gaze roving over my face. “I know it might not be as simple for you as leaving the mask at home. But the good thing about judgments people make is that they don’t belong to you.”
Those words hit me with all the force of a brick. I don’t know why, but with a single sentiment, Remi has managed to convey something I think Steph has been trying to make me understand for the better part of a year.
They don’t belong to you.
“Holy hell,” I manage, letting my weight carry me down to the ground.
Remi scrambles to keep up with me, his eyes wide as he crouches between my bent knees. A few of the Silkies cluck from their pen, startled by the rapid move. “Ben?”
I’ve been managing everyone else’s perception of someone who…doesn’t even exist. The thought has a laugh spilling from me.
I’ve been so afraid of people seeing me, I haven’t let them. Yet I’ve been taking their critiques, outright or implied, to heart all my life.
And no, I didn’t know I was doing it. Not before. None of it was even in my control or something I was consciously aware of.
But I know now.
I find Remi watching me with concern and unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “You know how there’s this running joke of sorts that elderly folks don’t give a shit what other people think? I think I’ve just entered that stage of my life.”
“Your…senile villain era?” Remi asks.
I bark a laugh. “Maybe so. You just made me realize it doesn’t matter. What people think of me. I’ve spent my entire life accepting judgment with the…the mask on. But it never made it hurt less. So why even try? Other people’s opinions… That’s not on me.”
“No,” Remi says softly, the tiniest smile on his lips. “It’s not.”
Remi doesn’t protest when I tug him close. He lets out a happy laugh, his arms wrapping around my neck as I drop my forehead to his shoulder. His fingers sink into my hair, the sensation sending a shiver through my body, from the tips of my ears all the way to my toes.
“You may have just saved me years of therapy,” I tell him.
He kisses the side of my head. “That was all mumbles, Ben.”
I move my mouth away from his shirt sleeve to speak more clearly. “Thank you.”
He hums, the sound vibrating against me in a way that feels intimate. It makes me hyperaware of just how close we are. How I’m wrapped around Remi like it’s the easiest thing. How he’s wrapped around me, too. Never pushing into my space uninvited but always ready to be there should I ask.
Drawing my head back, I find Remi’s eyes.
He’s sitting on his heels, putting him in a higher position than me.
His lips twist into a tiny smile that evens out the longer I stare at him.
I lift my hand to place my thumb against one of the beauty marks above his lip, my palm cradling his jaw.
I don’t know what it is about them. I want to kiss each, one after the other.
I want to kiss so many places I can’t even see.
His collarbone. His thighs. I want to find out what his stomach would feel like beneath my lips. That dip at the bottom of his throat.
Remi’s lips are parted when I bring my gaze back up to his face. I know exactly what I’d find in his eyes. Invitation. The same soft eagerness I’ve found since Remi first kissed me.
I may not always understand what other people want. What seems obvious to them isn’t always clear to me.
But there’s no mistaking Remi wants me to kiss him. And I want that, too.
His breath catches when I slide my fingers into the soft hair at the back of his head. My arm is already tensing, drawing him in…
When the door opens at the other end of the barn. The creak of it is soft, barely audible.
‘Zoey,’ I spell to Remi.
His brow pinches before realization dawns on his face.
Sitting back, he rises fluidly to his feet, turning toward the new employee.
I scrub a hand over my face as she asks Remi about portioning feed for the visitors.
He heads with her out the door, leaving me alone for a minute, the feeling in my chest easy to identify.
Disappointment.
I push myself off the floor, taking a moment to dust myself off as best I can. The dirt I accumulate at the ranch doesn’t bother me too much, expected as it is. It’s easy to shower off once the day is done. But that doesn’t mean I want to walk around with straw sticking off my person.
Remi comes back through the door before long, his face flushed with what might be cold, lingering want, or disappointment of his own.
His smile is wry, but I can hear the frustration alongside the amusement in his voice, the same visible in his movements.
“I swear to God, I’ve never wanted to yell at an employee before, but I was this close to—”
Remi’s words come to an abrupt halt when I take his face gently in my hands. My heart is leaping, and there’s a part of me that’s terrified of what this could mean. The two of us.
But it’s not enough to override the urge I have to taste Remi’s want on my tongue.
I bring my lips first to the beauty mark above the right side of his mouth. Then the left. It’s all too easy from there to slide lower, slotting our lips together.
It’s not the first time I’ve felt the softness of Remi’s mouth against my own. But I was too caught in my surprise last time to register anything else. Now?
Now there’s the smooth glide of his lips parting to welcome my own. There’s the way we fit together like two pieces snapping into one. There’s Remi’s exhale as his hands wrap in the front of my shirt, tugging me closer. Holding me captive.
And there’s an answering sigh deep in my chest. In my heart. In my head.
Relief, relief, relief.