cornered animal, my first instinct is to fight back and free myself. How dare he fucking trap me.
Instead, I let my hands rest at my sides and become very still as he presses his entire body against mine and wraps his arms so tightly around me, I can hear my heartbeat echoing in my ears. Talent’s taller and larger than I am, but I fit against him like a precious jewel returning to its velvety case. Warm acceptance pours over me from the top of my head, slowly coating my shoulders before spreading down the rest of my body.
Talent isn’t trapping me. He’s hugging me.
I’m so emotionally broken, I couldn’t tell the difference.
Turning my face into his neck, I inhale his sweet smell and let my eyes fall closed once again. I’m slow to reciprocate this unfamiliar show of affection, but I start by relaxing into his embrace. Once I feel his heart beating against my own, I rest my hands on his sides and carefully slide them to his lower back.
Then I circle my arms around him and exhale, hugging him back.
Talent cradles my face between his hands and asks, “Are we staying here or going back to my place tonight?”
As much as I wouldn’t mind sleeping between his sheets again, I don’t want to leave Camilla alone in the apartment.
“I need to stay.”
Talent nods, laces his fingers between mine, and guides me toward the bedroom. I sit on the bed while he removes his jacket and toes off his shoes. He untucks his button-up shirt and rolls the sleeves to his forearms. And I still can’t wrap my mind around Grand Haven’s very own Talent Ridge in my bedroom, let alone crawling across my mattress and lying on the side of the bed that’s never touched.
Turning off the lamp, I immediately find ease in the dark and rest my head on my pillow. Two large hands find and pull me over to tuck me snuggly against his side. And once again, I find myself experiencing another first with Talent. There’s never been a time in my life when I’ve shared a bed with a man for the sole purpose of sleep, but I can tell by the way he settles into the mattress and rests his arm over his head while the other is secure around me, that’s what’s happening.
And it’s exactly what I need.
Talent asks, “Do you want to talk about her?”
“I don’t know how to talk about her,” I admit instead of saying no like I normally would.
Clearing his throat, Talent crosses his ankles and sweeps the tips of his fingers up and down my arm. “Start at the beginning. Or at the end. Just start talking.”
“Talent,” I whisper. “I can’t.”
He turns his body toward mine and pushes a lock of hair away from my eyes. “What’s her name?”
“Cricket Anne Montgomery,” I answer, saying her name aloud for the first time in an exceptionally long time. The impact the enunciation of her name has on me is powerful, and I hold on to the sounds of her name like I held on to Talent by the front door.
Talking about her after that is easy. I start at the beginning and spend the next few hours telling Talent every detail I remember about my life with a mother as engrossing, reckless, and devout as mine was. He’s careful not to react too strongly, laughing quietly and smiling in the dark at stories of an irresponsible teenage mother and her loyal, dirty-faced daughter. But he tenses and holds me tightly when I get to the parts of misuse and neglect. He needs to know that I’m the same girl who slept in the back of a Buick while her mom danced in a smoky strip club, and I don’t let anyone too close because the only person I’ve ever loved abandoned me by dying.
“I miss her,” I admit, resting my head on Talent’s chest. “Despite it all, I miss my mom.”
I miss her.
And then I release her.
When I wake up the next morning, Talent’s standing at the end of my bed brushing his teeth with my toothbrush. Last night feels like a dream, but judging by the scratchy feeling in my throat, it was real. And judging by the way Talent smiles around my sudsy toothbrush, he still wants me.
Until he hears the rest of the story.
“I have an extra toothbrush under the sink.” I pull the sheet to my chin.