I fall to the side, taking her with me so I can hold her while she cries. I’d like to believe she had an earth-shattering orgasm that blew away all her defenses. But I know in my heart this is so much worse.
I hold her until her sobs subside. I stroke her hair away from her face, then I find the edges of the sheet and pull it over her, so she doesn’t feel so exposed. “You need me to let go of you?” I ask.
She shakes her head and sniffs. “No. God, I’m sorry. I ...”
“In your own time,” I encourage.
It takes a few more minutes before she lifts her head to look at me. “I wanted that ... but partway through, memories came back. And I wanted to chase them away with something more. With you. And I couldn’t get there because of it, and then when I did ... God, none of this is making any sense. I’m sorry. It was me, not you.”
I cup her cheek and run my thumb beneath her lashes. I don’t know what makes me catch one and put my thumb in my mouth. Her tears are salty. “Was it too soon?”
Briar shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t think so. I needed this. I needed the feeling of connection. I’ve been in my head since it happened. I wanted to get back in my body. To reclaim it, if that makes sense.”
“We can work on the connection thing without having sex.” I can’t believe the words are out of my mouth. Let alone that I actually believe them.
Her cheeks go a little pink. “I don’t want to take a step back. I want to move forward.”
I think of the men in my unit. How Phillip would counsel them after a shit day that we all knew would be followed with an equally shit day tomorrow. “Everything you feel right now is valid. Even if those feelings contradict each other. You can get aroused and want sex yet still feel traumatized. Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“I think it helped though. I feel better for crying and letting it out.”
I think for a minute, wanting to be careful in what I say next. “I’m happy to be with you wherever you’re at. And I’m happy to be with you if where you’re at changes like the breeze.”
“But it’s not fair to you. To want sex. To not want sex. To want to hide from you. To want to fall asleep in your arms.”
I lean forward and kiss her lips softly. “It’s not about me, right now. And it’s not about forever. It’s about you finding your feet. And if you need me in some capacity to help you do that, I’m here. You want to sleep alone, you tell me. You want to sleep curled up with me like a burrito, I’m not going to complain. You want to jump me like a porn star, complete with cheesy dialogue and soundtrack, I’ll give it the good old college try.”
Her chuckle makes me smile. “Saint,” she says, her eyes on me.
“I will say this, you focused when you were restrained. You were flailing a little until then. Is that something you’ve explored before?”
She lowers her gaze but nods.
“So, it’s not something triggering given what you went through?”
“Maybe. But I don’t want it to be.”
“Then we talk. A lot. About what we’re doing. And what you’re feeling.”
Briar shakes her head. “It’ll feel awkward. I’m not big on sharing feelings. I lived in a family of emoters. Emoters of predominantly fear-based emotions. I said I was never going to become one of them.”
“You don’t have to be,” I reassure. “But I think there’s a reason people become led by fear as adults, and it’s usually because they didn’t process the trauma from childhood. Processing things after a stressful situation is a lot different to remaining stuck for the rest of your adult life. Trust me, Briar. You’re safe with me.”
Even though you don’t have a clue who I really am.
17
BRIAR
When I wake in the morning, the world comes back slowly.
I’m warm, the sheets wrapped tightly around me.
And as I open one eye, I realize I’m alone.
I open the other eye and see nothing but a pillow with a dent in it, where a head lay all night. But Ryker isn’t here with me.
Closing my eyes, I allow the memory of last night to replay in my mind.
