Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“That’s not—”
“Stop interrupting,” he booms and then calms down. “Please.”
“Okay.”
His nostrils flare. “I want more of what happened this morning, but not if you’re going to run away afterwards. That’s not part of the deal. I don’t care if you have a breakdown or a panic attack or even if you yell and scream at me. This is only going to work if you tell me what’s going on in your head.”
“I know.”
He doesn’t hear me. Or ignores me. “So if you can’t do that, then we should forget this morning ever happened and go back to being roommates.”
“I can do it.”
He keeps rambling. “I like you, Anders. You’re adorably awkward and funny, and yeah, you’re a little messed up, but in this day and age, I think everyone is to some degree. As much as I want to explore you and the possibility of you, I’m not going to do it if you can’t handle it. Because I refuse to be the guy who takes advantage or hurts you.”
“Brody,” I say loudly.
His gaze finally snaps to mine.
“I know.”
“Know what?”
“That everything you just said is true and right, and …” It’s my turn to take in a deep breath. “Law and Reed didn’t tell you where I was because they don’t know shit about us. I told them I had a bad night and needed an emergency therapy session. That’s where I was. I might’ve run away this morning, but I ran to somewhere that could help me understand why I reacted the way I did. I thought …”
I stare down at the cat and run my hand over her, being careful to be gentle with the patchy parts. I can’t find the words I need and sure as shit don’t have the guts to say them while looking Brody in the eye.
Meatball must sense me staring at her the same way Brody is staring at me, and she jumps off my lap to run away.
Lucky bitch. She gets to escape the scrutiny.
I don’t have that luxury. “I thought if we hooked up and I got through it, that maybe it’d mean that was it. I didn’t know I’d panic after it, and I wasn’t prepared to handle it. I fucked up. I know that. And it’s completely unfair to you that I ran out of here without telling you that you did nothing wrong.”
“You …” Brody stumbles back. “You went to therapy?”
“Not many therapists have emergency appointments on a weekend, but I’m a special case. Clearly.”
“What did your therapist say?”
I crack a smile. “That you might be good for me.”
He seems surprised.
“But that we shouldn’t hook up again until I deal with what happened this morning.”
“Can you tell me what did happen this morning?” He goes to take a step towards the bed but thinks better of it. “Can I …” He points to the spot next to me.
I lift the covers, and Brody comes to sit next to me, resting against the headboard like I am.
Having him close, in my bed, my cock forgets everything Karen told me this afternoon and is up for a repeat already.
I turn to him. “What happened this morning was …”
Brody leans in closer and lowers his voice. “I think the words you’re looking for are amazing, wonderful, and orgasmic.”
“So sure of yourself.”
“Let’s start from the moment you freaked out.” His blue eyes are sympathetic and soft, but this is hard.
“It was easy to get lost in you, and I haven’t had that for a really long time.”
“So that’s what scared you? That you enjoyed it?”
I grunt. “Okay, this is embarrassing as fuck, so I’m just going to blurt it out and hope for the best. I can’t … sometimes … Farrrrrk.” I throw my head back.
A hand lands on my thigh above the covers. “Anders, it’s okay. Take your time.”
“The reason my last few years have been filled with younger, smaller guys I picked up from bars is because sometimes I get too in my head and I can’t … perform. It’s easier to blame it on the alcohol than get into the whole ‘Hey, I can’t get it up because I’m afraid you might stab me’ thing.”
“Oh.” His hand squeezes my leg tighter, but I have to hand it to him. He doesn’t look horrified.
“It’s not like I always had that problem, but I needed my hook-ups to go a certain way. I had to be the one in control, and it had to be a comfortable environment. When a guy met all the criteria, I’d try to make a relationship work with him—I’d try to convince myself it’d be different this time—but around the one-month mark, I’d flip out and get Law to break it off with him for me, because I couldn’t face it. Not after …”
Shit. I still haven’t told him it was my ex who actually hurt me. I can’t … that’s … just no. I can’t go there when I’m already so exposed.