I breathe a moment or two. “I’m not scared of it in the way you’re thinking.” I hunt for the words. “I know you’ll be…gentle. I imagine it would…or will, I don’t know—it’d be good. I have no doubt.”
“Good?” He laughs the word. “When we kiss, is it justgood? Or is it something a whole hell of a lot more than that?”
“It’s something a whole hell of a lot more than that.” I whisper it. “And that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
He buries his hands in my hair and begins massaging my scalp with powerful, gentle fingers. I let out a soft groan—the scalp massage is nearly orgasmic. He hums a laugh. “Like that, do you?”
I just moan again. “Yeah, you can go ahead and do this forever.”
“What are you afraid of, Nik?”
“Nik,” I whisper.
“Heard your mom call you that. Okay if I call you that?”
I hum an affirmative sound. “Yeah,” I whisper. “I just…Mom, Erin, and Gram are the only ones who ever call me Nik or Nikki, and I…I like it. I thought I’d lost it when I lost them. So yeah, Chance. You can call me that.”
“Right then,” he says. “Whatare youafraid of, Nik?”
“Getting sucked in.” I let out a breath, another moan as his massaging fingers move to my nape and the back of my neck, working out tension I didn’t know I was carrying there. “Liking you too much. Wanting too much.Beingtoo much.”
“How is any of that bad, babe?”
“I lost myself, Chance. For a long time. I know you get that, how you lose who you are when you’re a user.”
“Sure as fuck do. But you ain’t a user anymore, Nik. And neither am I.”
“But I…I have major trust issues, Chance. I don’t trust anyone. I don’t even trust myself. My dad left us when we were little. I don’t even really remember him. I was four, maybe, when he left. Erin wasn’t even a year old yet, I think, so maybe more like three. He just…left. For another woman, probably. A younger one with no kids, I guess. I don’t know. I’ve never really looked for him. Mom doesn’t talk about him, none of us do. And I guess that just…it fucked with me on some kind of deep level, you know? Not having a dad, the fact that my dad abandoned us without ever really giving us a chance. Or whatever the case was. I don’t feel like there’s much excuse for leaving your whole family and never looking back. Like, how can you do that? How could any man have a wife and two little girls and just…leave? Not even a wife. He never married Mom. Just knocked her up twice and then vanished like a piece of shit.”
“Nik, I get that, but—”
I shake my head. “You had both parents. And they were taken from you. They didn’t abandon you willfully. Even your mom, not excusing her addiction, but we both know that’s a disease, and some people are just never able to beat it. So youdon’tget it—youcan’t. Just like you’ve got shit I’ll never get—like PTSD from combat.” I sigh. “Chance, I just…I’ve had to be this person for so long. The athlete always striving for more, to be better. The perfectionist never content with where I’m at. Then it was taken away from me, everything I ever fucking wanted, everything I was, everything I had. Gone. Through no fault of my own, and I had to cope with that. I failed to cope with it. All that shit led me here, Chance…and it’s turned me hard. Closed me down. Made me wary of men, of letting anyone close. Mainly because after I became an addict, no one wanted tobeclose to me. No one wanted me.” I swallow hard. “No one wanted me. Except men who thought they could use me. So now I’m not that person. I’m not someone who can think about beingwanted. Not anymore. Nor can I bear thinking about wanting anyone. It’s all too much.”
He allows silence to breathe between us, still gently but firmly massaging my scalp. Then, after a while, he stops. Withdraws his hands from my hair, rolls sideways so I land on the mattress and he’s angled over me on an elbow. His long loose wild black hair drapes around my face and sticks to his beard. “Annika, honey. You’re not answering the question. What…are you…afraidof?”
“Being abandoned again!” I shout. “Not being wanted. I’m afraid of wanting more than….more than anyone can give me. I’m afraid of…” I cover my face with my hands. “I’ve always felt like I take up too much space in this world, Chance. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s not just about being tall. It’s just…me. My emotions are too much.”
“Keep talking, mama. I hear you. I’m listening.” His voice is tender and soft. Quiet and powerful and intimate.
His heat warms me. His weight, the little bit of it he’s giving me, presses me into the bed. He tugs my hands down, and I have to look at him.
“I’m too much. Boyfriends, hookups, dates, one-night stands, whatever, I’ve always felt like I’m too much. Like I can’t…I can’t let on how much I’m feeling, how intense my emotions are. Sexually, I…I’ve never felt…matched. Like anyone could ever fill me up—I don’t mean itthatway, just…well, maybe I do. That’s true, too. But I mean…” I shake my head. “I don’t know the words, Chance. I’ve always felt like I’m too much and everyone I’ve ever been with just isn’t enough. And how do you tell someone that?” I toy with his hair, pulling my fingers down through the inky black locks, searching his face, his eyes for what he’s feeling. “I’m afraid of myself. And I’m afraid of everyone else. I’m especially afraid of you, because…because part of me wantsso fucking badlyto believe you could be the first man, theonlyman I’ve ever known who could…who could handle everything I am, physically, sexually, my ugly, filthy fucking past, emotionally. Everything. And I want that, Chance. I want you to be thatsofucking bad it hurts. So bad it scares me absolutely senseless. Because what if you’re not? What if…”
I trail off when his finger touches my lips. “Nikki baby.” His voice is…tender and understanding. “I get that more than you could ever know. All of it.”
“But Chance—" I start.
“Hush, babe—my turn.” He holds my gaze, his unwavering, open, and deep. “Here’s a few things I’ve learned in life. Okay? One, no man is an island—we need community, even just a few people who see you, know you, and accept you. Two, conversely, we absolutelyareislands—no one can ever truly know the absolute entirety of another person. We have to continually choose to show other people who we are, what we want and allow them to see us. Three, you can’t ever know for sure if you trust someone until you just take the leap and trust. And that’s scary. This one, I’ve learned by watching Rev and Myka and then Kane and Anjalee. Rev…he’s like me, in a lot of ways. Damaged, hardened, and just…not someone who’s easy to know. Myka is the opposite. She’s an open book. To meet her and spend one fuckin’ hour with her is to basically know who she is. She just lets it all hang out. It took a lot of courage for her to trust Rev with her heart, and even more courage for him to trust his with her. Because you can’t know if a person is gonna accept you and stick by you and really fuckin’ truly love you until you try. And I saw that end up being worth it for them. I know Rev was scared out of his fuckin’ mind to let Myka in, to let her have the darkest parts of who he is. But he did it, and, Nik? Trusting Myka? That was an act of bravery for him. Because he’s got some dark shit. Like me. Like you. So does Kane, and so does Anj. We all do. The only choice we got is to justtry, babe.”
“Just…jump? And hope?” I ask.
He nods. “Yeah, mama. Just jump and hope. You jump and you hope that I’ll catch you. You jump, trusting that even if I don’t, you’re strong enough to survive that. Because I can tell you till I’m blue in the face that I’ve got you, that I won’t let you down, that I can handle you, all of you, that I’ve got enough to give to fill you all the fuckin’ way up, and that I’m man enough to accept all you’ve got to give. I can say that, but you won’t really know it, you won’t really truly be able to trust that it’s true until you just…give me a shot.”
“If I do, and you let me down, you discover you can’t or don’t want to…” I swallow, eyes burning again. “I don’t think I’d survive that, Chance. I’ve been through too much. I don’t know if I could—”
He silences me by kissing me. This kiss is unlike the others. This one is…slow. Deep. Exploratory. Giving. It’s meant to prove something.
At first, I just accept it. I let him move his mouth on mine, let him taste my lips, trace my teeth and my tongue with his. But he’s not content with that. He demands more…not from me, however. He demands I accept more from him. His mouth soars on mine, the kiss deepening. I can’t help but respond, and my heart clamors and hammers in my chest, physically, and my heart swells and cracks within me, metaphorically.
