“For being late?” That didn’t seem logical. There had to be more to the story, but Tenley was too wound up to articulate it.
When her feet hit the floor, her right knee buckled. I sat up and threw my legs over the side of the bed, grabbing her hips to steady her. She was really fucking naked, her breasts right in my face, little jeweled barbells taunting me. When I averted my eyes downward, I was met with her bare kitty. She flicked on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room in a harsh glow. I let her go and blinked against the sudden brightness as Tenley crossed over to the closet, a slight hitch in her step.
Then I noticed her back. Scars littered her skin. She must have been in a serious accident to leave so much damage behind.
I’d felt them the night before; the divots. But I’d been too distracted to make sense of them. It looked like the Milky Way in the form of pale pink scars, marring her perfection. They traveled from her right shoulder down to her left hip in a diagonal spatter pattern, starting as a thin line and fanning out to the width of my hand. Physical suffering like that brought with it deep emotional wounds. Those took infinitely more time to heal.
Tenley’s sudden distress, combined with the tangible proof of her trauma, shut down my hormones. I retrieved my pants from the floor and pulled them on, tucking myself away. Pins and needles shot up my arm and I shook it out, trying to get the feeling back so I could button my jeans. I gave up when Tenley started rummaging through her closet, her movements panicky. Hangers clattered to the floor, clothes piling in a heap.
I came up behind her, getting a much better look at the severity of the scarring. It must have hurt like hell in the aftermath. “Hey.” I ran my palm gently across the marks on her back. “What happened to you?”
She spun around, her nakedness covered by the clothing hugged to her chest. Her fingers moved to her shoulder. She looked scared more than anything else.
I caressed her cheek with the back of my hand. “What kind of accident were you in?” She shied away from the touch. I didn’t like the heavy charge in the atmosphere. There were too many questions without answers. I had a feeling Tenley wouldn’t share them easily.
“I can’t do this with you right now,” she pleaded. Her eyes were watery and her bottom lip trembled. She looked like she was straddling the line between fear and anger, the latter a protective measure I was familiar with.
“Okay. We can talk about it later.” It wasn’t a topic she could avoid indefinitely, and I wanted her to know that. But for now I would let it go. When she shivered, I draped the robe hanging from her closet door over her shoulders. “Why don’t you have a shower and get ready?”
“I don’t have enough time. It takes a half hour to get there, and I’ll have to find parking.”
It didn’t take a genius to see she was fighting to keep it together. I took her face in my hands, keeping her focus on me. “We have plenty of time. Get ready and I’ll bring my car around.”
“I have to drive myself.” She sounded indignant.
“Says who? You’re too upset to drive.”
“I’m fine.”
“And I’m a fucking saint. Who do you think you’re kidding? Let me do this for you.”
“But I have to teach a class afterward and then I need to meet with my group and you have work.”
“I can rearrange appointments. I’ll pick you up when you’re done.”
“But . . . but . . .” she floundered.
Her breath came too fast, like she couldn’t get enough air, her hand at her throat. I recognized the signs for what they were. I remembered exactly what it felt like to have a panic attack. After my parents died, they were part of my routine for a long time.
“You need to breathe, kitten.”
Whatever had happened with her advisor had to have been pretty bad to send her into such a state. I would find out more when she was capable of having a real conversation. My questions about her scars probably hadn’t helped to calm her, either, which made me more concerned about how they got there. Tenley took a few deep breaths.
“Sorry,” she whispered, her embarrassment obvious.
“Don’t be. I’ll meet you downstairs in twenty minutes.”
“Okay.”
I dropped a chaste kiss on her lips and released her. She padded across the hall into the bathroom and closed the door. The shower came on and I tried not to think about her naked and soapy. There would be other opportunities. I tackled the mess of clothes on the floor, hanging up everything but a pair of black dress pants and a dark purple top. I made the bed, arranging all seven thousand pillows against the headboard, and laid the outfit on the comforter. If it wasn’t such an invasion of privacy, I would have picked out panties as well.