Chapter 12 #3
“All the things you’ve done to me have been wanted. Some of them even needed.” Lifting my head, I lean away from him enough that his own head comes up. “You’ve been nothing but respectful.”
He regards me for a moment. I can see the wheels turning in his mind, but I haven’t a clue what he’s thinking about. It’s like he’s trying to make a decision, and he doesn’t know which way he should go.
There’s always been a joke in our friend group that involves Liam.
That he’s emotionally stunted and doesn’t get certain things, probably never will.
It all started because he doesn’t date and was always scared of things like tears and emotions.
But I’ve seen the man grow in leaps and bounds the last few months since he started being my shoulder to cry on.
Questioning himself and the things he’s done to me this week, though?
It’s like he’s taken ten giant steps backwards.
Or maybe he never really took any forward.
Maybe I’ve just been thinking he did because he stopped being scared of the tears.
He started accepting them and all the emotions that came along with them.
Or maybe all of his emotional intelligence flies out the window the second we’re talking about his feelings.
Because we never do. We never talk about him.
Not truly, anyway. Small talk about his shift at the firehouse and if there was an interesting call.
Or his day at home with Tosha if it’s a day off.
But to truly talk about anything that affects him? Never.
“Do you trust me?” he finally asks, his light brown eyes as serious as I’ve ever seen them.
My mouth opens to tell him yes immediately, but before I say a word, I close it again, thinking about my answer. It’s not a matter of whether I trust him. I do. Wholly. I would trust this man with my life. But his question makes me wonder whether or not he trusts me—or anyone for that matter.
“I do,” I say after a brief hesitation, slowly nodding my head.
The frown he produces looks odd on him. There’s more and he can tell. “But?”
I shake my head. “There’s no but. Not when it comes to whether I trust you. I do. I just wonder if that’s reciprocated.”
“Of course I trust you,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, his frown deepening.
“Do you, though?” I question, tilting my head to the side earnestly. “Do you trust anyone fully?”
“Of course,” he repeats, lifting his head confidently. “Everyone at the station. All my friends. Every day I have to trust them to have my back.”
“Do you ever open up to any of them?” Moving my hands to his shoulders, I give them a gentle squeeze. “Look, if you don’t want to tell anyone anything, that’s okay. I just hate to think about the things you’re missing out on because you don’t let anyone fully in. Apparently not even Nate.”
We both know I’m talking about the conversation we had at the Grand Canyon today in regard to why he is the way he is. I can see the recognition in his eyes.
He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off with a finger to his lips.
“I’m not asking you to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I need you to know that I don’t think you give yourself enough credit for being a genuinely good, decent guy.
” Exchanging my index finger for my thumb, I run it across his bottom lip, my eyes flicking down to watch for a second.
“I think you’ve put yourself into a box, and it’s become your identity.
Or at least the identity that you want people to see. ”
“My reputation.”
I nod in agreement. “You said it yourself that it must be bad if your own best friend is questioning you. But I don’t question you. I’ve seen a side of you over the past few months, and especially this week, that I don’t think you show to many, if anyone.”
Standing on my tip toes, I press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I like this side of you. I like every side of you. I think maybe it’s time I showed you just how much. Just how perfect I think you are.”
“Perfect?” he scoffs.
“Yes, perfect,” I tell him confidently, pulling back to look in his eyes, a challenge in my own.
“I’m anything but perfect.”
I smirk at him, turning our bodies so his back is to the bed. “Now you know how it feels when you call me perfect.”
“When I say it, it’s true,” he says with a grin.
Giving him a slight push to his chest, he easily falls to his elbows on the bed while I come to stand between his legs. “Well I’m going to show you just how true I think it is when I say it. And you’re going to confirm or deny it.”
“Oh yeah? How?”
Biting on my lower lip, I reach for his belt buckle, giving it a firm tug. “If I make you come, you’ll be acknowledging that I’m right. If you don’t come, maybe I’ll believe you.”
The wind is knocked right out of him as he falls completely to the bed, his eyes closing as he groans. “You’re a fucking brat, and I’m going to make you pay for this.”
“I really hope so. I liked being a bad girl.”
He groans as I palm him through his jeans. “Good, ‘cause I want you both good and bad.”
That makes me smile. For him I’ll be anything he wants.
Until Sunday.