He stirred beneath her touch, shifting and looking up at her, a wicked half smile on his face. Her heart fluttered, her stomach turning over. She felt... She felt tender and new. She felt exposed, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was good or bad.
She didn’t want to run away though. She didn’t want to have a fight. She supposed maybe that was a good thing.
“I’m awake,” he said.
His brown hair was rumpled, his eyes sleepy. This was so intimate. Waking up with him like this. Looking at him. She wasn’t covered by a blanket, wasn’t covered by anything. For once, she wasn’t covered up at all.
“Yeah, you look awake,” she said, lifting her hand and brushing a lock of hair out of his face.
Her heart ached. Looking at him like this, a little bit mischievous, a little bit boyish and a bit less tortured... It made her feel a bit tortured, and she couldn’t quite say why.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, his voice gravelly.
“Starving. But it’s my turn to cook for you.”
She wiggled out from under him, standing up, searching the room for clothes.
“Do you need clothes?” he asked, reading her mind.
“We went over this. Potential health code violations and everything...”
“I solemnly swear not to report your food handling violations to the state of Oregon.”
She shot him a stern glare, then moved across the small room and into the kitchen. “I am going to make you a Bear family special.”
“I can’t wait. I imagine it’s tortilla based?”
“Yes. Because even now that is essentially the extent of my skills.” She took a large stack of flour tortillas out of the fridge and a bag of preshredded cheese. Then, she fished around until she found her sandwich grill.
She set about making the world’s most basic quesadillas, which the two of them ended up eating naked on the couch.
“I’ve been mad at you for a long time,” she said, chewing thoughtfully.
“I’ve been mad at me too.”
She nodded. “I’m not now. When I said I forgive you, I meant it.” She did—that was the most amazing thing. She actually felt lighter, as though the weight were more than simply metaphorical, but as if there had been a literal ton of bricks sitting on her chest for the past seventeen years and finally releasing it made her breathe easier. Made everything seem different.
“It was never the scars,” she said, the words costing her. “I mean, yes, I don’t love them. And, it did impact my self-esteem, I’m not going to lie about that. But men are men, and plenty of them made it very clear that they would sleep with me if I wanted to. Some of them were jerks. Some of them acted like I should be grateful for the attention. But some of them were fine. I was the one that made the scars a big deal.” She swallowed hard. “They’ve been the best suit of armor I ever could’ve asked for.”
“Rebecca...”
“No, let me finish. Maybe this is uncomfortable for you to hear. It’s kind of uncomfortable for me to say. But it doesn’t make it any less true. They weren’t...not an issue. But they weren’t the issue that I pretended they were. They’re not the reason that I was never with a guy. They’re not the reason that I had trouble making friends. But it’s the reason I gave to people. The reason that I gave to myself.”
“I don’t need to be let off the hook,” he said. “Not to this degree.”
“That’s not why I’m doing it. Trust me. I have no problem making you suffer, you know that.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I feel like things are changing though.” She knew what he meant by that. That he thought maybe her judgment was clouded because she was getting attached to him. Because of the sex. Well, she couldn’t exactly dispute that. But that didn’t make this revelation any less real.
Now that she had moved the rest of the junk out of the way. The anger, all of the blame that she directed his way... She could see inside of herself a little bit clearer. The break in the wall that had begun back in the store earlier with Jonathan was continuing now.
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I mean, the way that I feel about you... What’s happening between us... It doesn’t change this. It doesn’t change the truth. There are a lot of things in