“I’m not talking about your face or body. I’m talking about your heart and soul. Youthink because of what happened to you that you’retainted.That the damage runs too deep for anyone to love you. You think you’re too broken tolove someone else. I know you’re not.”
I bury my face in his chest, tears now flowing freely. “Jake, please stop.”
“Cara, you think I don’t see how much you love your brother. That I haven’t noticedhow you are with Maddox and Ryder. Not to mention Lyra. You treat that little girl – my little girl – asif she hung the moon. You’re not so broken you can’t be fixed, Cara. You are full of cracks and scars, but I love you for those scars and what’s under them too.”
I shake my head, trying todeny what I know to be true. I’ve seen how he looks at me. I can hear it in his voice.
“I’m going to be what you need. I going to show youlove like you never thought possible. I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be right here until you believe what I tell you.I’m going to be right here until you finally stop refusing to feel what I can see when you look at me. Just like you can see it when I look at you.”
“What do you see?” I whisper.
“The other half of my soul. I saw it five years ago when Ilaid eyes on a sixteen-year-old girl.At that moment, I knew I was going to hell,but it will be well worth the trip. It’s taken you a bit to catch up, but Iknew the minute you did.”
I give a wet chuckle. “Oh yeah. Whenwas that?”
“I’ll let you figure it out. When you do, you can tell me if I’m right.”
“You deserve better, Jake.”
“No, baby, you deserve better. I just hope one day very soon, you’ll settle for me.”
I am sitting on the sofawithpens and an adult coloring book. My therapist recommended Iuse them when I feel anxious. Something for me to focus on besides the demons in my head.
As soon as I put Lyra down for the night, they started screaming.Reminding me of the mistakes I’ve made.Telling me to keep my walls up because Jake won’tbe able to handle me. He’ll need to protect Lyrafrom me.Or the absolute worst, that somehow I will hurt them too. Knowing that man is still alive makes that seem like all too real a possibility.
I’m not sure if these workbooks actually help, but they don’t hurt. They give me something to do besides sitting here, listening to the voices in my head.
I sit here for hourswith the colorful pens, filling in the lines of the abstract design. I’m not an artist by any means. That’s all Dane. But I do like tocolor. I like following the patternsand seeing my finished work. Kind of makes me feel like a kid. At the moment, being a kid would be better than being an adult.
A few hours later, I’m starting on my second page. Tonight, it’s actually working. I’ve been totally distracted from the inner workings of mymind.So much so, I don’t realize how late it is until the door to the bus opens, and Jake walks in.
He goes straight to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. He grabs some paper towels, then wipes his face.His hair is wet with sweat.He reaches over his head, removing his sweat-soaked shirt, making my mouth go very dry.I realizewith a shock, I’ve never seen him without his shirt.I knew without a doubt he’d be well-toned, but I never thought he’d look like he’d been chiseled from the marble of Michelangelo.
You can see the effects of the adrenaline from being on stage are still very much with him.More than that, he looks like sex.
My thighs clench at the thought.He always looks like sex but, right now,he could give me an orgasm just by looking at me. Especially if he keeps looking at me like he is. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of me since he walked in the door.
“Wasn’t expecting you to be awake,” he says with a husky voice that makes my insides shake.
“Couldn’t sleep. Too much trying to creep into my head,” I tell him. I try to drop my eyes from his, but they are locked on his. I feel like a snake being hypnotized.
He walks to me. His steps, though few, are calculated and measured. Sure.
He sits next to me, taking the bookand pens away, setting them on the floor. He pulls me inhis lap so that I’m straddling him.
I’m unsure what to make of this Jake,who is forward with his feelings and intentions.He said he’s wanted me for years. I never knew because he never showed any interest in me.I may have recognized his attraction and affection that first night of the tour, but he still never said anything.He gave me my space.
I kind of want that space back right now. My heart is doing somersaults in my chest. My stomach feels like I’m on a rollercoaster going downhill. I am feeling things I am trying not to feel.Things I desperately want to push away because they’re only going to lead to pain. For both of us.
But it’s the throbbing between my legs that keepsme in place. It’s the feel of his hardness beneath me– that his jeans and my cotton shorts do little to conceal – that won’t let me move.I somehow manage to keep my hands to myself.It takes real concentrated effort not to grind against him. Like I did the other morning, and I came likeI’ve never done in my life.
He smirks, knowing exactly why I’m still sitting here. Knowing exactly how my body reacts to him.He doesn’t mention it,though. “Why can’t you sleep?”
Talking? That’s what he wants to do?
I guess, considering I’m too turned on to run, his game plan is smart.“Just the memories trying to take over.”
“But you slept last night,” he says, brushing a stray hair from my bun away from my face.I don’t even bother attempting to contain the shiver that runs up my spine.
