He places his hand on my back and begins to rub soothing circles. I hate how his touch still ignites a fire within me even though he doesn’t want me. Damn hormones. I don’t respond. I bite down harder on my lip and curl into a ball, fighting off the tears that are pushing to the surface.
I hear him stand up. I listen with baited breath for the door to close. It doesn’t. Instead, I hear shoes softly tumbling onto the hardwood floor. I feel the bed dip with his weight and then I feel Blaise. He’s lying behind me. I can feel his body heat seep into me. I’m instantly pissed off because I want him. I wanted a night of passion. I wanted to forget the pain. Unable to hold them in any longer, tears begin to flow and my shoulders begin to shake.
Without hesitation, Blaise wraps his arms around me and pulls me back against his chest. He doesn’t say anything; he just holds me. I don’t understand why he’s being so nice. The only reason I can come up with is he feels sorry for me. Maybe he feels bad for leading me on?
I focus on taking deep breaths and get my emotions under control. Blaise notices and speaks for the first time since he laid down. “You want to talk about it?” he asks as he continues to hold me tight.
Really? A laugh escapes me. “Sure, Blaise, let’s talk about how I practically threw myself at you and you rejected me. Let’s not,” I say dryly.
His arm tenses around me. “What? No, baby. I didn’t reject you. I was protecting you,” he excuses.
I roll over to face him. He keeps his arm locked tight around me. We’re now face to face and he can see the evidence of my tears.
Blaise removes his hand from my waist and gently wipes my tears away with his thumb. As soon as he’s finished, his arm goes back around me, holding me to him.
We lie there, watching each other. Blaise finally breaks the silence. “Baby, I could never reject you. I want you, I do. What I don’t want is for you to think I used you for a quick f*ck when I want all of you,” he tells me. His eyes are boring into mine, trying to convince me he means what he says.
Holy Shit!
It must be the alcohol. There is no way I comprehend this correctly. My face must show my confusion because Blaise starts to further explain.
“I want you. All of you. I want your smiles, your laughs. I want to be the one person in the world you know you can always count on. I want to be the one you run to. I want to be able to fall asleep like this every night and wake up to you every morning,” he tells me.
“Blaise,” I whisper his name.
“Shh, just rest. We can talk more tomorrow,” he says softly.
“Will you…?” I stop myself before I ask him to stay. His words confuse me, but I also know while lying here in his arms, I feel at peace, and it’s been a while for me. So, yes, I want him to stay, but I won’t allow myself to ask him.
Reading my thoughts, he says, “I’m not going anywhere.” With that, he pulls the cover over us.
I relax into his hold. I never thought I would feel loved and protected again, like I belong here, in his arms. After losing my parents, I felt…out of place. After what Josh did, I was sure that I would never feel safe with another man. As I lay in his arms, I feel completely safe, loved and cherished. This is where I belong. This is my last thought as sleep claims me.
I’m not sure what caused Tatum’s tears. I hate she’s upset. Her lip quivers and she bites down hard. I can see her eyes are glassy from the dim light of the moon shining through the window. She rolls over, trying to shut me out. This girl has seen so much pain. I don’t know all the details, but what I do know is I never want to be the one who causes that look in her eyes, that causes her tears to flow.
Decision made, I stand up and close her bedroom door. I walk back to the bed and remove my shoes. I crawl in next to her and align my body with hers. I gently rub her back, letting her know I’m still here. Her shoulders begin to shake and so does my heart. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight, letting her work through whatever it is that caused this. I have a good idea she thinks I rejected her, when that’s not the case. I don’t want to take advantage of her. She’s had a lot to drink and I don’t want her to feel used. Selfishly, I also want our first time to be memorable for both of us.
I feel her breathing even out, so I decide to ask her if she wants to talk. She confirms my suspicions. She actually thinks I don’t want her. F*ck!
I try to explain to her the best I can without scaring her away that I wasn’t rejecting her. I know that in her current state of mind it will be hard to reason with her. I tell her how much I want her anyway, knowing she probably won’t remember any of this in the morning. I’ll wait until she’s asleep, then slip out to the couch. I want to be here when she wakes up. We need to talk about this.
“Will you…” she starts to ask me something. I know deep down she wants me to stay. I can feel it in the way her body relaxed in my arms. I may have made her cry, but she feels safe with me. That’s all I can ask for right now.
I reassure her I’m not going anywhere and wrap her tight in my arms. I listen as her breathing evens out, her soft breath against my chest. No way am I moving to the couch, and no way am I falling asleep. My heart is hammering against my chest. This feels right. Tatum in my arms, our bodies fused together as we lie here in the darkness. I want to commit this to memory. When Tatum wakes up and she still thinks I rejected her, who knows how long it will take for me to get her back in my arms like this. I plan to savor the moment.
I’m lost in thought. My mind reliving every moment I’ve shared with her when she begins to be restless. She’s whimpering in her sleep. She calls out, “No…they’re not gone…they can’t be gone.” I watch as a tear rolls down her cheek.
I take my thumb and gently wipe away her tears. “No,” she says again. Her voice soft and broken. My heart breaks at the sound.
I bring her head against my chest. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I got you,” I whisper these words to her over and over while rubbing her back, trying to soothe her. If I could take away her pain, I would. There is an ache in my chest and a lump in my throat as I fight back my own emotions. She’s scared. It’s breaking my heart to watch her.
“Blaise,” my name falls from her lips. I wait to see if she’ll say more, but she doesn’t. She still sleeping. My name on her lips helps ease my own turmoil. She’s either asking for me, or feels me here with her. I’ll take either.
Tatum stirs in my arms as the sun starts to rise. She rolls over and we are face to face. Slowly she opens her eyes. I wait for panic or anger. Instead, I get a sleepy smile.
Her hair has fallen in her eyes; I tuck the thick locks behind her ear. “Hey you,” I say, my voice gruff. This is a surreal moment for me, waking up with her. I hope she’s ready for what I’m about to bring. I’m going to fight for her, for us. I want this moment with her every f*cking day.
“Morning,” she says in her sleep-laced voice. “You stayed.”
“Yeah,” I say, my eyes not leaving hers.
Tatum holds my stare. A slight blush crosses her face. “I had a dream you were here. I guess that was real,” she says, finally looking away.
Is she embarrassed? I use my hand to gently guide her head back to face me. “I was here. I am here. I will always be here,” I tell her. My voice is firm but soft.