Beck just looks up at me, the lower half of his face damp and glistening. I have magic come in this lighting, apparently. Nice to know. The way he looks at me is reverent. Hopeful, even. But when he speaks, his voice is subdued, “I know…you’re still pissed at me.”
“Not even great head can fix everything.”
“Great?” He raises his brows. “Well, thank you.”
The need to touch him is second nature. I can’t help myself. I reach down, running a fingertip across his wet mouth, down to his damp chin.
“Pussy juice,” he says, licking his lips. “Best facial moisturizer in the world.”
I just shake my head. I honestly don’t know whether to smile or cry or what. Coming hasn’t helped anything. There’s still this ominous storm inside me. A break in my beating heart.
Slowly, he rises to his feet, grabbing me another towel. He wraps it around me, tucking it in at the front, as if I were a child in need of care. Then he hands me my pile of clothes. “Why don’t you go get dressed, grab some breakfast,” he says. “I’ll be down soon.”
And I want to say something, but I don’t know what.
Holy hell, this sucks. We’re both hurting so badly. But if I forgive him too soon, too easily, will it happen again? Am I setting us up for failure? We’re talking a lifetime’s worth of bad habits and a crappy family culture he needs to take a long hard look at here. And yet we’re both so damn miserable. Not to forget, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. No wonder some people run away when things go wrong. This is hard.
“We need to talk,” I say.
“Okay. Go get some coffee. I won’t be long.”
Guess this time, he needs some space. A chance to deal with what’s straining the front of his suit pants, perhaps. Under normal conditions, I’d offer to return the favor and make him come. However, these aren’t normal conditions. What is the sexual etiquette when your relationship is the thing that has been fucked?
I nod. “See you downstairs.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“We’re starting over,” I say, cup of coffee nestled between my hands. “Again. And we need to get it right this time.”
Beck sits opposite me. His hair is still wet from his shower and he’s dressed in jeans and a tee like when we first met. “I’m listening.”
“I’m moving into the bedroom on the fourth floor for a while and I’d prefer it if you didn’t sleep outside the door again.”
A barely perceptible flinch from him. I’m hurting him and that sucks to unreached depths, but this is where his lies have brought us. However, he doesn’t try to talk me down or anything and I’m so damn grateful for that. There’s hope for us yet. There has to be.
“I think we should go back to the start and try dating again.” I take a sip of coffee. My hand is shaking, dammit. Now is not the time for weakness. “Things were so rushed between us. We haven’t even known each other a full month.”
A nod.
“That’s it. That’s all I’ve come up with so far.”
Mrs. Francis made a pot of coffee and set out a plate of pastries before disappearing. I can’t even stomach the idea of food. The sun shines in dully through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Today the whole world seems cold and gray. His cell sits on the table buzzing, but he ignores the thing.
“Okay,” he says, the words coming slowly. “I’ll stay off the fourth floor, but I’d like to have breakfast and dinner with you each day. Let’s consider them dates.”
“That’s a lot of dates.”
He shrugs. “How else are we going to get past this if we don’t spend time together?”
“All right. Agreed.”
“Thank you.”
“And you’re going to regularly start seeing a therapist?”
Another nod. “I’d like us to do couples therapy eventually.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” I keep my body contained to my side of the table. Because as comforting as it would be to hold his hand, we need to establish some boundaries. Especially after the accidental oral. “I also think any use of the word ‘love’ should be delayed for now. I’m confused enough.”
“You want total honesty from me?” he asks, gaze set on my face.
“Yes, but…”
“But what?”
I swallow. “It’s just a lot right now.”
“It is, however, the truth,” he says. “And that’s what’s important, right? I love you. That’s a fact. I don’t think maybe I’m in love with