Total pages in book: 436
Estimated words: 415303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 2077(@200wpm)___ 1661(@250wpm)___ 1384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 415303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 2077(@200wpm)___ 1661(@250wpm)___ 1384(@300wpm)
“I wouldn’t want you to be any different than you are right now, Pen.” The words were quiet, solemn.
And for a moment, we stood in silence until I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t let her say anymore, because if she did, the thin façade I’d built would crumble and blow away, exposing me, exposing her.
So I kissed her instead. She tasted of bourbon and cake, smelled of jasmine, felt like silk against my fingertips, against my lips.
When I let her go, I guided her to sit on the wide wooden plank, her long fingers wrapping around the ropes to hang on. And when I pulled her back by her waist and released her, the gray silk of her dress billow and her silvery hair fly with the sound of her laughter in my ears.
Too soon after, the night was nearly over. The DJ had brought the tempo down, and I found myself in the middle of the dance floor with Penny against my chest, The Cure singing “Pictures of You” as the two of us moved in small circles on the parquet.
It was strange, how I felt. Like I was dreaming. Like my heart had opened up and so had hers. That we were open to each other. I could feel the connection like a tether between us. That everything that I felt, she felt. That everything I wanted, she wanted.
I kissed the top of her head, and she shifted her face against my beating heart.
I had to tell her. I needed her to know that I wanted her, wanted more, felt more. I wanted to soothe her, ease her fears, promise her anything she asked for. Because I’d give her anything even if it meant giving her nothing. Even if it meant we kept going just how we were.
But if I told her, things wouldn’t go on like this. Things would change.
I could lose her.
My heart skipped a beat against her cheek.
The war between trusting her with my feelings and giving her the space I knew she needed battled in my ribcage. When did the sacrifice of what I wanted become too much? How would I know she was ready, that I wouldn’t scare her off?
I’d coaxed the wild pony out to eat from my hand, but putting a bridle on her was another thing altogether.
I couldn’t tell her, not yet. I only hoped I had the resolve to hold on.
I could have stood there on the dance floor in Bodie’s arms with The Cure on repeat for the rest of my life.
The night had been full of magic.
Every moment between us deepened my feelings, and I knew he felt what I felt. I didn’t know how I knew, but I did. It was as if every second that ticked by whispered, Yes, as if we were caught in something we couldn’t turn back from, swept away in each other. I didn’t even want out. I could drown in him, and I should have been afraid.
But I wasn’t.
I felt safe. Safe and warm and cared for. This was what trust felt like, real trust between someone who valued you as much as themselves — I realized it distantly, as if I were floating above the two of us swaying in each other’s arms. I trusted him because he’d proven that his words were truth. He’d agreed to everything I’d asked for. He’d made me promises and held them, and I had no reason to doubt him.
But when I really held his actions and words up next to each other, they weren’t quite the same. He’d said it was all copacetic, sure, but he felt more just as much as I did. He wanted more. I’d denied my feelings, but he’d known all along.
I knew it as suddenly and clearly as if I’d looked in a mirror for the first time.
He’d just been giving me what he knew I needed, just like he always had. He’d sacrificed what he’d wanted to make me happy.
I thought I’d want to cut and run at the realization, but I didn’t. I couldn’t, not only because he had done everything for me without asking for a single thing in return, even my heart, but I wanted to stay because he’d shown me how to trust again. He treated me with care and respect. He honored me without thought to himself.
I wanted to stay because I’d never been with anyone who didn’t play games. And with Bodie, there was no power play, no control, no upper hand.
We were equals. And I’d had no idea something like this could even be real.
I had two gears — full-blown obsession and apathy. This gear that I was on was unknown, a lurch in my life that left me reeling, without any context or boundaries or rules.
That unknown brought a flicker of fear. But in the circle of his arms, with his heart beating under my cheek and his breath warm on my skin, I was safe. He was exactly what I needed, and he was everything right.