find in my son’s arms.
Something I wish she would find in mine.
I would let her soar and be free, if only she would be mine.
It’s in the little things. I have come to care for Lexi. It’s been months now. I honestly didn’t think they would last that long, but we spend more and more time together. We have movie and game nights, and we drink and talk. Justin always gets annoyed and calls it an evening first, leaving us alone. I learn her dreams, her hopes, her past.
She’s beautiful inside and out.
Completely. But tonight, she’s different—quiet and unhappy. I try to coax her out of her shell, but she seems to curl in on herself, so I break my own rules. Rounding the table, I ignore the game we’re playing. Justin is upstairs packing. It’s just her and me, which is probably why I’m so brave. But that longing, that hurt on her face, has me breaking every rule. I need to comfort her, to help her.
She calls to that protective side of me.
Kneeling at her feet, I clasp her hands in her lap, mine dwarfing hers. Her eyes stay locked on them, my tan flesh against hers, yet she doesn’t pull away. “You okay?”
She nods and goes to give me a fake answer, so I reach up, clench her chin hard, and force her eyes to mine. “Do not lie to me, angel. What’s wrong?” I demand, ordering her to tell me, giving her no room for lies or evasion. She will tell me, or I will force it out of her.
“I—do you think I’m ugly?” she whispers.
I blink in astonishment. Lexi is very comfortable in her own skin, and she owns her beauty… What’s brought this on? “Why?” I snap.
She flinches, but I refuse to look away. “Words, angel, use your words, or I’ll go ask my son.”
She sighs, tears filling her eyes. “We had a fight about me dancing. He said I want to do it because I think I’m not good enough, that I need them to want me to prove I’m not ugly.” She hiccups on the last word, and fire races through me. How fucking dare he?
How dare he try and break this beautiful creature before me? How dare he hurt her because of his own insecurities? He should worship at her feet and watch her dance and sing proudly, knowing that all those men and women want her, but she’s going home with him. I want to wring his neck, but she’s still staring at me. Those big blue eyes stay on me, waiting. I have to answer. I have to.
“No, he’s wrong. I’ve never seen you dance, but I know that’s not why you do it. You’re beautiful, Lexi, so goddamn beautiful it hurts sometimes, and not just because of your face or body.”
She sniffles, and I wipe away a tear, cupping her face. “It’s in the little things.” She tries to look away, so I tighten my hand and force her eyes to mine, my voice going low and gravelly as I admit it, as I reveal just how much I watch her.
“You don’t see yourself clearly. You can’t see when your face lights up in laughter, when you smile freely when no one is around, or the way it softens in peace. You can’t see yourself when you’re talking about your passions, the way your eyes sparkle and your voice rises and becomes faster. The way your lips never stop smiling, the way you lean into people when you’re talking. The way you stare at them as they speak, giving them your full attention. You don’t see the way your tears fill those baby blues and call to everyone.”
She gasps, and I move closer, pushing between her thighs, forcing myself there. She swallows again, her eyes flickering between mine nervously. “Angel,” I murmur, “you’re beautiful, a pure, kind soul. Your beauty astounds me. Every time I think you can’t get any more gorgeous, you do. It kills me. Ruins me.”
My eyes drop hungrily to her lips, and hers drop to mine before our gazes meet again. “So beautiful,” I whisper longingly.
I hear his footsteps, and so does she. A smile curls her lips as she rolls them into her mouth for a moment. “Thank you, Tyler,” she whispers just for me, before letting go of my hands and dashing her tears away. She rebuilds herself as I watch, and I have never felt such happiness, knowing she let me