30. Miley
I draw away from his shoulder, my mouth agape, because I don’t know how to answer that.
“Shh, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,” he says wistfully, as he wipes a tear from my cheek. Seeing him vulnerable and hurting spurns me to speak my truth.
“Rohit, don’t misunderstand,” I say softly. “I am in love with you, too.” Another tear falls which he gently wipes away with the pad of his thumb. “I just don’t think we will work. I won’t be able to give the relationship everything it needs…” I look down and whisper, “Especially in the bedroom.”
Rohit doesn’t move for a second, then he strokes the back of my head. He whispers into my ear, “Goose, do you trust me?”
Even though I haven’t trusted a man in a very long time, at this moment, I know I do trust Rohit. I just don’t know if it’s enough to overcome my hang-ups.
“Goose?” he prompts.
I nod in answer. “But—”
“No buts, goose,” he interrupts, shushing me gently. “That’s enough for me. If you want to be with me, and you trust me, that’s enough. We can go slowly,” he says, and my insides are a puddle—a mess of love and want and nerves and uncertainty. “I just want a chance. A chance with you. Even if it doesn’t work out, it’s better than never getting to show you how much I care about you.” He takes a deep inhale and holds it.
My heart can’t take this. I don’t know where he came from. I don’t know what I did to deserve his patience and understanding, when we haven’t even really started yet. But, I still have a nagging feeling.
“You said you weren’t looking for a relationship, and I know you’re… experienced … and you’re probably used to a certain level of physical intimacy. Why would you give all that up to be with me?” Part of me is kicking myself for asking; the same part of me is screaming not to look a gift horse in the mouth and to just accept his words and hope for the best.
Rohit sighs. “You want to know the truth?”
After baring my soul, I absolutely want to hear the truth, as much as it may scare me. Again, I nod in assent.
“My parents, especially my mom, would love for me to settle down. They’ve introduced me around to their friends’ daughters, because that’s the kind of girl they see me ending up with. I’ve tried in the past, but it always ends badly. There’s too much judgment in our community about my career choices, and I don’t like the way that makes me feel. So I thought it was better not to date at all.” He pauses, and I feel so deeply for him.
I know him. I know how wonderful he is with his patients and with his tennis kids. I know what a difference he makes in the hospital and on the court. Him being judged for that makes me so sad. And angry. I stroke the side of his face, settling my hand under his chin, feeling the soft hairs of his beard.
“Oh, Rohit.” I sigh. “You don’t have to defend your career choices to anyone. Being an ICU nurse and coaching kids in a sport that you are passionate about is admirable. And you’re so good at both of those things.” Turning the focus of our conversation to the innumerable ways I admire Rohit has eased some of the heaviness in my chest, and I add with a smirk, “You’re also really sexy when you’re doing either job.”
Rohit beams. “You make me feel differently than any other girl I have ever thought about dating. You know who I am and still accept me, and it makes me feel confident in my choices. Remember when we were at the bar, and you told that girl it’s because I had found the right one?”
My eyes meet his and I give a single curt nod.
“What you said was true. I have found the right one. I only want to be trapped by you. And being with you isn’t me giving up anything. It’s me gaining everything.”
I grin despite myself, scared but hopeful of where this will lead.
He sees my smile, and returns it with his own hopeful one. He reaches up with one hand and tilts my chin up with one finger. He leans down, his hazel eyes sparkle with mischief and wonder.
“Now, can I fucking kiss you or not?”
Again, I nod. His lips crash against mine as I frantically climb onto his lap. Shifting so my legs wrap around his torso, I deepen our kiss. His hands are in my hair and mine wrap around his neck. We’re both panting, frantic, as we devour each other as if starved for each other’s touch. When he pulls back, I whimper in protest.
“Miley, I love you. I promise we are going to go slow, so I am going to leave now,” he says between shallow breaths.
My head falls back in frustration, but then I slowly nod, knowing he’s right. I climb off of him, immediately feeling the loss of his warmth and wanting nothing more than to press myself against him again.
I walk him to the door, and before he goes, he leans in, giving me a soft kiss on the lips. He then moves his lips to my ears and whispers wickedly, “We may be going slow, but one day, I’m going to learn how you like to be touched. I can’t wait to hear you scream while I make you come. Whenever you’re ready.”
I feel the warmth pool in my core as he pecks my cheek and silently closes the door behind him.