“No.” Nix shakes him off. “Why are you doing this? I know you don’t want me anymore, but maybe they won’t mind?”
“Not want you? What? And, mind what—?” Grayson looks stupefied.
Maybe he hadn’t expected Nix to notice he wasn’t wanted?
Does Grayson think he’s uselessandstupid?
Hayes always told him he was.
Nix shakes his head and turns the water to cold, but before he can stand under the frigid water, Grayson has his hands on his shoulders, making it hard for Nix to look away.
He can’t bear to see the disgust in his soulmate’s eyes.
“Look at me, Angel. Please.”
Nix reads confusion and concern on his mate’s beautiful face, and he feels love in the bond.
“Nix. I don’t know what I did to make you think I don’t want you when it’s the opposite. I want you more than anything or anyone in the entire universe. In the history of time. No one will want you or need you more than me. Can you tell me what happened?”
He sounds sincere, but Grayson is kind—would he lie to make Nix feel better?
Only one way to know for sure. “One minute we were kissing, and thenext, you rolled away and told me you needed space, and you are allowed to do that. But it doesn’t feel good.”
It felt—feels—terrible, and that rotten place in his brain had helped Nix along this path of self-hatred and fear, where every word he hears is tinged with Hayes’s mocking tone.
“Oh, fuck me. Angel. Shit. Come on. Let’s wash up, and then I’ll try to explain myself. But please believe me when I say that I want you. You are beautiful inside and out, and so full of life. I would want you if you were a…a…turtle.”
Turning the water warm, Grayson removes his clothes, too, and he pulls Nix under the water, kissing his nose and cheeks. It goes a long way to ease him back from the edge of despair.
“A turtle?” Nix whispers. “Weird.”
It’s not so bad when Grayson is holding him and talking to him. The box doesn’t leak its poison as much, and he can’t hear all the things Hayes has said in his head.
“Yes, a fucking turtle. Or even a tomato.”
Soft hands rinse the soap away, and Nix can smile a tiny bit.
“What about if I were a worm? Would you want me then, Gray?”
Grayson stops his ministrations, and Nix isn’t really sure what he’s going to say. It could go either way.
Finally, Grayson turns the water off, grabs a towel, wraps Nix up from neck to knees, and grabs another for himself.
“You need a robe, Angel-baby. Come on.”
He lets Nix decide how they get into the nest and where Nix wants him. It still smells good, and he finds it relaxes his tense muscles and overactive brain just a little bit more.
When they’re under the crisp cotton sheets with the duvet up to his nose, and the nesting materials tucked in close, Grayson pulls him in.
“Yes,” he says seriously.
“Yes?”
“Yes, I would want you if you were a worm. Because you are beautiful on the inside, not just on the outside. You are sunshine when it rains. You arelaughter when we are sad. Your soul shines so brightly, you make everyone you meet fall in love with you. So even if you were a gray, slimy, oozy worm, I would want you.”
Not everyone has loved Nix. He knows that for a fact, and what Grayson says is ridiculous—but oh, so romantic.
Grayson is the one who is lovely, not him.
