Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,87
of my senses, I can’t pretend not to feel it — the intimacy of the moment. The sweet, beautiful, heart-aching simplicity of a hand in my hair, of arms wrapped tight around me. There’s nothing sexual about his touch — only comfort, compassion between two people who care for one another. And still, with just the trace of his fingertips on my skin, he reaches deeper into my soul than any man has ever done before, even in the throes of the best orgasm of my life.
Seriously — it should freak me out.
It freaks me out that it doesn’t freak me out.
I sigh as all the tension slips out of me and I relax against him, my limbs like water. I’ve never done this before — just slept with a man, in the most basic form of the word. My one-night stands either fled in the cover of darkness or hung around just long enough to make things awkward in the morning. And Ralph… well, after he finished — regardless of whether I’d even come close in the two minutes he spent pumping away with the impatience of a boy inflating his bicycle tires — he’d roll to the other side of the bed, as far from me as he could get, and start snoring loud enough to make my headboard shake.
So romantic.
Hesitantly, I wrap my arms around Chase’s body and snuggle closer.
“You’re good at this,” I whisper sleepily.
I feel his body still beneath mine. “What, sunshine?”
“This.” I squeeze my arms tighter. “Us. You’re good at it.”
He’s quiet but, after a few seconds, I feel his lips press against my hair.
“Only because it’s you,” he murmurs, making my heart turn in my chest.
“I’ve never done this before.” My words are practically inaudible, but somehow, he hears me.
“I know, sunshine.”
“I might be bad at it.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”
My eyes crack open and I shift against him so I can meet his eyes. Even in the dark, I see they’re soft and warm.
“I’m sorry about earlier.”
His arms tighten around me. “I know.”
“This stuff — letting you in — it doesn’t come naturally to me.” I take a deep breath, trying desperately to keep my voice from shaking. “He’s got another family, you know. That’s why he didn’t stay with my mom.”
Chase stills completely, his eyes on mine. “I know.”
“I have an older brother I’ve never met. A little sister, too.” I swallow. “I always wanted siblings. Even more than I wanted a father, growing up, I wanted brothers and sisters to play with.”
Chase’s fingers stroke through my hair.
“It was just me and Mom. She didn’t ever tell me about him — she just said he left us, before I was born. She didn’t want me to know I was half West.” I sigh. “I get why she kept it from me, now. She didn’t want me to see the life we almost had. It would’ve been like telling a little street urchin her father was the king — that she should’ve been a princess, not a pauper.”
“How did you find out?”
“I found the letters, when I was fifteen. She kept them in her jewelry box. I was trying on her necklaces, one day, when she wasn’t home. And there they were, at the bottom of the drawer. Letters from my father.” I take another steadying breath. “I was so mad, it sent me into a tailspin. Drinking, drugs, boys — any trouble I could get my hands on. The rest of my teenage years passed in a blur. I was mad for a long time.” My hands curl involuntarily. “I’m still mad, if I’m being honest. Not with Mom — with him. Milo. For doing that to her.”
“And to you,” Chase adds softly.
I’m silent for a moment, trying to work up a denial but unable to do it. I can’t lie about this — not to Chase — so I lay my head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat, willing myself not to cry. He doesn’t push me; he just pets my hair in long, soothing strokes, reassuring me without words that I’ll be all right. I press my eyes closed and hug him so tight it’s probably hard to breathe, but he never complains.
“He didn’t stay,” I whisper finally, my words hollow.
Chase’s lips brush my forehead and his arms tighten to hold me closer.
My voice is little more than a whisper.
“No one ever stays.”
A single tear escapes my eyelid and drips onto his bare chest.