bathed in darkness. I feel him settle in behind me as he tugs the covers up over us. “I’m going to hold you. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
He pulls me close, my back to his chest, and doesn’t stop until our bodies are perfectly aligned. His hand travels a slow journey as he runs them over every inch of my skin that he can reach. When he’s satisfied, he rests his hand on my belly and presses his lips to my bare shoulder.
“Is this okay?” he questions.
He’s always making sure I’m good. He’s never pushy, and that makes me want him even more. He’s giving me choices. Not so much as choices, but he’s helping me speak them without fear.
“It’s okay.”
The room is dark, and the only sound is our breathing. My body is wide awake, craving the feel of his skin against mine. It’s a feeling that I’ve only read about. Something I’ve always wondered about. It’s intimate. I feel like he’s giving me this huge gift, so I should give him something in return. We’ve been dating for a couple of months, and it’s time I tell him my ugly truths. I have this irrational fear that Grant hearing what another man thought will change his mind, but I know in my heart that’s not right. That’s not who Grant Riggins is. Squeezing my eyes closed, I prepare myself for this conversation.
At least it’s dark.
“His name was Elijah.” I stop to see if Grant’s going to comment, but all I feel are his lips pressing against my shoulder yet again. “He was my first and only serious relationship. He was my first in a lot of ways. I gave him my virginity and my heart. He took my soul and my spirit, and then he destroyed them both.” I pause, needing a break. I hate talking about this, but Grant deserves it all. I want us to move forward. I want this happy life he paints for us. I can’t have that until he knows my past. It’s mine, but it made me who I am. I need him to better understand my hesitations and insecurities.
“He wasn’t like that at first. He was nice and charming. He was never much on showing affection, but I just chalked that up to just being him, you know? Everyone has their own quirks, and I assumed that was his when it should have been a red flag.” I shudder a breath. This is harder than I thought it would be.
“I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” Grant finally speaks. I don’t know how he always knows what I need to hear.
“We dated for about a year, and I ignored all the signs. I thought he loved me, and I loved him, and it was just a quirk. He never introduced me to his friends and family, telling me he didn’t have any worth mentioning. He never wanted to hold my hand or hold me. Not like this. We were barely naked when we slept together.” Grant’s arms tighten around me. “And after, he would get dressed or simply roll over and go to sleep. I’d try to snuggle with him, and he always said it was too hot or that he didn’t like to be touched like that.”
“Fucking prick,” Grant mumbles but otherwise says nothing.
“When my lease was up on my apartment, he asked me to move in with him. I was twenty-three, and the idea of us living together made me giddy.”
Here comes the hard part. I pull from the strength his arms wrapped around me brings. “I hadn’t lived there a week when he started to make comments. Things like you’re eating again? Or those pants look really tight. Have you gained weight? Things snowballed from there. We would go to dinner, and he would order for me. A steak or something for him, and salad no dressing for me. He would make comments to the waiters that I was dieting, that I needed to lose thirty pounds.”
“What the fuck? Where in the hell would you lose thirty pounds from? That would make you too damn skinny,” Grant seethes.
I ignore him and keep pushing on. “He would then test me. He would order and let me order on my own. The first time he did, I ordered a steak just like he did. He ridiculed me the entire dinner. He didn’t bother lowering his voice, and everyone in the restaurant heard him. When we got home, he apologized. He seemed