“A d-date,” I stutter.
He just continues to smile, and even when he picks up his fork and continues to eat, that smile never leaves his lips.
Of course, the one on my own never left either.
AFTER THE LAST POT WAS dried, I grab Ember’s hand and pull her into the living room. She stumbles at first, and I hate that she is looking at everything I do and trying to figure out what game I’m playing. I saw it in her eyes earlier when I told her we would make a date out of dinner at Dirty tomorrow. It was written all over her face when I started the pasta, and then again, when she admitted she didn’t understand why I was there.
She was justified in her thoughts, I muse as I drop down on the couch and pull her down to sit on my lap. I fucked up and I’m just now beginning to see just how much.
“Ask me,” I stress, shifting her so that she is sitting sideways with her back leaning against the armrest and put one arm over her shoulder to twist one of her long locks of hair around my fingers, while my other hand comes up and rests over her fiddling hands, halting her movements.
“Ask you what?” Her eyes widen, and I watch as her chest starts to rise and fall faster with each breath.
“Ask me what I was thinking when you told me that you loved me the first time.”
She jerks in my arms, and I fight back the groan when her weight rubs against my swollen cock. I tighten my hold on her with a squeeze of the hand that is holding her two captive and pull her closer to my chest.
“I can just tell you, but I need to know that you actually want to hear it.”
She sighs, and I know she would rather be saying anything else right now, but she does it. “What were you thinking?” There’s a slight tremor in her soft melodic voice, and I say a silent prayer that she doesn’t start crying. I’m not sure I could handle her tears.
“I was terrified out of my mind. I had been fighting my feelings for you well before you turned legal. It didn’t matter in my mind that you were finally eighteen; there was still a gap between us that wouldn’t have been easy for us to overcome right then. You were still finding yourself, and we both know that I needed to stop being a punk and grow up. I had been drifting, content in life, even though I had dreams that no one knew about. Dreams that I’ve only now made a reality.”
She continues to search my face as I speak. I pause to collect my thoughts, pulling her hands apart and clasping one of her tiny hands in my larger one. She sighs and I take a deep breath before continuing.
“That wasn’t the only reason, Em. I had some stupid fear in my head that pain always comes with love. I watched some fucked-up shit happen to Dani only months before, and seeing how lust, love, and all the feelings in between can turn sour real fast, I let that fear rule me. But I also knew, even if you didn’t see it, that there was no way us being together wouldn’t cause issues within our families.”
“It wouldn’t have,” she rushes out quietly.
“Yeah, it would have. I wasn’t the same man I am today three years ago. I needed to wake the hell up and make something of myself. I can tell you, the man I was then wasn’t worthy of you.”
“You’re so wrong.” She sighs sadly.
“Yeah, well … I see things differently now, but I still think it would have been a damn hard road for us then, and I’m not sure I would have been strong enough to make sure it was one we traveled with no trouble.”
“You hurt me, Nate.”
I take a deep breath and give her the rest of it. “Yeah … I hurt me too.”
She jerks in my arms, visibly shocked at my admission.
“Denying what I felt. Hurting you to push you away. Knowing deep down that I would regret that moment for a long time coming. Being without you for the last three years, yeah … that hurt me too.”
She pulls her hand from my hold and shifts in my lap until she is facing me with her knees on either side of my thighs. “You never acted like it,” she accuses, her hands coming up to rest on my chest as she searches my eyes, running her gaze down my face and over my features.
“Because it was easier to act like I didn’t have a care in the world than to admit that I was wrong and risk you rejecting me like I did you.”
And that’s the truth of it, something that I didn’t even realize until recently when I forced myself to really think back to why I pushed her away. The reasons behind denying us what we both wanted.
“I never—” she starts, but I stop her with a shake of my head.
“It’s in the past, Em. A wise man once told me that looking back wouldn’t do anything but make the hurt grow a little bigger.”
“I’m not sure I agree with that,” she tells me.