Chapter 15
Molly
It feels like I’m looking at a whole new man, but the same old Peter as well.
No wonder he’s been carrying ghosts in those eyes; he’s been living a tough life no one really knows about.
The whole situation must be exhausting. Carrying these burdens on his own. Suffering in silence. Everyone else judging him for every mishap.
Just like when the photographers were shouting inappropriate questions at him, I feel my anger rising.
Anger for the life he was dealt.
Anger towards a father who chose drugs and alcohol over his family.
Anger for the fucked-up people who are supposed to be in his corner, but instead they’re all in it for themselves.
I try to simmer down my anger as it won’t help him in this situation.
The least I can do is patch him up and try to provide some comfort.
“What made you come here?” I ask him softly.
Part of me feels stupid for ever pushing this man, when he’s got so much on his plate.
I probably just added to his weights. Wanting something from him.
Like everyone else.
“Didn’t seem like the best idea to walk back to my hotel when I looked like this, and the photographers would be around,” he says, pressing his lips softly to mine again.
It’s feather light kisses, nothing like our first make-out session, but it lights me up, nevertheless.
Having them after he’s just let me in on an important part of his life makes it even more special.
Peter runs a hand down my face, resting it in the nape of my neck as he looks at me.
“This also felt like the perfect place to go,” he says, and now I’m the one pressing my lips to his again.
He moves closer to me, deepening the kiss, not caring about his bruised lip in the slightest.
I don’t want to make him bleed again, though, no matter how good his lips feel on mine.
“Peter, we shouldn’t. Your lip,” I say, causing Peter to groan.
“I’ve just been punched, sweetheart. Please make me feel better, maybe use those lips on my cock then?” He sniggers, and I lightly hit his shoulder.
“Asshole,” I mutter, smiling and thankful to see him joke around even after going through something traumatic.
I would probably get on my knees if he really wanted to, and even though the tension is simmering between us, it’s not just the sexual kind.
It feels good just being together.
He pulls me into his arms and lies down in my small bed.
I’ve never had a problem fitting in this bed, but with Peter, I’m basically lying on top of him in order to make us both fit.
He doesn’t seem to mind, though, stroking my back lightly as we lie there.
“Can you tell me about your childhood?” he asks, surprising me.
I realise he might want me to distract him from his own heavy family history, so I gladly start telling him about my own family and upbringing.
Even though my dad was building his empire while I was little, he always made time for mom and me, making sure we felt special every day.
No matter the business of his days, he’s always made sure we’ve eaten dinner together at least four days a week. I’ve always had a safe haven at home with my parents; their support is only a phone call away.
Now that my dad is working in F1, they’re only an office or hotel room away.
My dad has said numerous times that my mom doesn’t need to work, but she loves her job as a wedding planner.
She’s a hopeless romantic, always telling me the stories of the brides and grooms and how they met.
Knowing more about Peter’s family history and how heavy this must be for him, it feels even more special when he lets me in on small bits and pieces of his story.
He tells me about his mom and how they were each other’s support when things went bad with his dad. When Peter talks about his relationship with his mother today, I feel his arms tightening around me.
I don’t even think he notices that he does it himself.
Her new family and how he feels like he’ll never fit in there.
He’ll always be a part of her old family, reminding her of a bad time.
He might not feel that close to her anymore, but she’s the only family he has left.
Even though he feels like the odd man out, he’s determined to keep visiting her at least once a year.
My heart aches for this man and the pain he’s gone through and is still going through.
Even though he doesn’t call it loneliness himself, I can tell Peter’s used to dealing with all his problems alone.
Luckily, he has Ryan close by.
And now, I feel like he’s slightly more ready to let me in as well.
I want to cherish that opportunity. Make him see that he shouldn’t have to carry this all on his own.
His coming here feels like a first step in the right direction.
“I could come with you, if you want, to go see your mom,” I say, looking down into his eyes.
I’m half-expecting him to shut me out, tell me that this is all fake, and that he simply had a weak moment when coming here.
Instead, he lets out a small smile, relief on his face as he tells me he would love that.
I rest my head on his chest, enjoying the feel of his heartbeat under my cheek as we continue talking.
After a while, I hear his heavy breathing, and I realise he’s fallen asleep. Having a man fall asleep in my presence shouldn’t make me feel this good.
But this isn’t just any man.
This is Peter.
And he was able to relax fully in my presence.
Which feels like the greatest gift of all.