For some reason, cuddling struck more fear inside me than getting slapped or punched. I knew exactly how to respond to those—kick his ass out of my apartment. But with cuddling, I was lost.
I edged away from him, shaking my head, only to yelp out a surprised scream when he snaked out a hand and caught hold of my leg, stilling me.
“Yes, cuddle,” he said. “I like to cuddle.”
My muscles clenched and limbs went tense as he climbed up right into my personal space and wrapped himself around me like a second skin.
“I…I’m not big on cuddling,” I finally admitted, my body board-stiff against him.
“Really?” He sounded surprised by that. “Well, don’t worry, by the time I’m through with you, you’ll love it. Here, maybe you should, yeah, just relax your muscles a little, and breathing is also good. Breathe.” His palm splayed warm and flat against my abdomen, and I purposely inhaled, then a few seconds later, I exhaled.
“Good,” he murmured. “Now roll facing away from me.”
After encouraging me onto my side, he curled up behind me, spooning, his knees fitting up into the backs of mine and his lap holding my bottom snuggly as his chest pressed to my spine. Then his arm looped around and banded me to him at the middle.
“There.” He exhaled and relaxed behind me.
I practiced a few more deep breaths before I realized I was relaxing too, and it felt nice, like two puzzle pieces interlocking. Which only made me more uneasy. Getting this close to Colton when sex wasn’t involved seemed scary.
“Your heart’s racing,” he whispered into my ear, his breath stirring my hair and making me shiver while my nipples hardened.
“But I’m relaxed,” I whispered back. “Isn’t that a start?”
“You’re right. It is. You’re doing great.” His hand squeezed encouragingly around my hip. “Want to know a secret?”
When I hummed out my assent, letting him know I did, he said, “I really like your dream catchers.” His fingers drifted over my tattoo with the softest caress. “When I was little, I had someone try to help me get over my nightmares too. But she didn’t give me a dream catcher.”
I sighed, content, as one of his fingers traced the feather that came around my ribcage toward my front. “What’d she give you?”
He chuckled softly. “A rabbit’s foot and a little bottle of breath spray.”
My eyebrows perked. “The rabbit’s foot and breath spray you have on your keychain?” The very pair he’d held in his sleep all night on my couch?
“Yeah. Those.” His fingers paused at the very tip of my feather before moving on toward the underside of my breasts.
Closing my eyes as he circled my chest with a lazy, swooping fingertip, I said, “I understand the rabbit’s foot, to give you luck, but...breath spray?”
He chuckled again, a little more ruefully this time. “She called it monster repellent, and said if I ever got scared, I could spray it on the monster to scare it away.”
I laughed, a languid, happy giggle. “That’s priceless. I love it. It’s a perfect story for a little boy too. And I guess you used it if you’ve run out.”
“Well, I used it as breath spray too. And I’ve had it nearly ten years so...of course I’ve used it all by now.”
“Makes sense.” A couple of quiet moments passed before I skimmed my hand up the arm that was wrapped around my waist and squeezed his bicep warmly. “Want to know a secret from me?”
Even as I asked, my stomach muscles clenched, making me wonder why I was opening up to him.
But then he said, “Of course,” and I had to admit the truth.
“I’m really not a cuddler, but this...this I like.”
“Hell yes, you do,” he agreed with a hungry kind of growl as he tugged me tighter against him. “Because you’re cuddling with me.”
“Oh, Jesus.” I rolled my eyes but grinned as I did. “We really need to work on your ego, you know that?”
“Nah, I actually don’t think all that highly of myself. I’m pretty realistic about who and what I am. All the hoopla I put on is mostly a ruse, just to have some fun. The truth is, I’m not all that. I’ve let down some of the people closest to me in the worst ways possible.”
He sounded so sad about that. Sad and Colton should never be used in the same sentence. I rubbed his arm, trying to think up something wise and comforting to say.
But then he sighed.
“It really eats at you, you know,” he admitted quietly, “when someone you love suffers because of you. But fuck, what’re you supposed to do when they recover and forgive you? Get all depressed and turn emo because of it? Or pick your damn self back up, laugh it off, and try to make their sacrifice worth something?”