Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Show me around,” I say.
“Why? You’ve seen the house. And the cornfields are huge, but if you see one acre, you’ve seen them all.”
I reach toward her, trail a finger over her forearm. I know what I want to see. Will she take me there? “Show me a certain part of it.”
“What part?”
“The part where you got lost.”
Her jawline tenses.
This is getting to her, clearly.
But that time in her childhood obviously affected her, and it may be part of what she needs to face about herself. Part of what I need to learn about her.
And maybe about myself.
She swallows. “All right. I’ll take you there.”
I touch her hand. “You’re frightened.”
“Not frightened exactly. A little apprehensive.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”
“You’ve never gone back there, have you?”
Her eyes widen. “How did you know that?”
“You got rigid. Tense at the mere thought.”
“You can tell that by looking at me?”
“Of course. I know you, Skye. Sometimes I think I know you better than you know yourself.” I look toward the entry and then lower my voice. “I have to know my partner. I have to be able to read her body when she can’t speak to me. It’s part of the lifestyle. Part of how I keep you safe.”
“Will we ever get back there, Braden?”
“I hope so,” I say, “because I don’t think I can exist without that part of my life.”
“You mean last night didn’t mean anything for you?”
“Last night meant everything to me. It was completely new to me, and I wanted it with you. But I can’t deny I still crave the darker side of sex. I always will. And if you and I can’t go there, I’m afraid there’s no future for us.” Sadness sweeps through me at the mere thought.
“We can go there, Braden. You’re the one who stopped it, not me.”
“True. But as long as you have that need—for the neck binding—I can’t be with you. That’s why I need you to figure out why you want it. That’s the only way we can deal with it, but until you know the reason behind that need, you’ll always want something I can’t give you. And that’s no way to begin a relationship. To begin a future together.”
“How can there be no future? We love each other.”
I cup her cheek, trailing my thumb over her lower lip. “Love isn’t always enough, Skye.”
“Love conquers all.”
“You’re better than a cliché,” I say. “You’re smarter than that.”
She nods.
Does she believe herself, though? Or does she truly think love can conquer everything? Because it can’t. I should know.
“I will answer your question, Braden,” she says. “That’s why I came here. To figure this stuff out. But when I answer yours, I expect you to answer mine. I want to know why it’s your hard limit.”
I nod. I don’t talk about that time in my life, but if she can come clean with me, I’ll do the same. She deserves that. “I always intended to.”
“Then I’ll hold you to it.”
The backyard is large, and one of the fields juts up against it, separated by chain-link fencing.
Skye breathes in deeply and leads me to the chain-link gate at the far side of the yard. “Is this where you went into the cornfield?” I ask.
“Yes. The gate was open.”
“Did you know how to open the gate?”
“Yeah. But I never did.”
“Were you allowed in the field?”
She nods. “As long as my mom was nearby and as long as I didn’t go in too far.”
“But that day, you went in.”
“Yeah. I was chasing a praying mantis, remember?”
“Right. You liked bugs.”
She smiles. “I was never a girly girl. I played in the mud. I never wore dresses except on special occasions. I didn’t even wear makeup until my senior year of high school.”
“Did you help with the farming?”
“Not the actual farming, no. But I helped Mom dry and can corn in the fall. I helped her with her craft fairs and baking. That kind of stuff.”
“Did you ever want to help in the fields?”
She shakes her head vehemently. “Not after that day.”
“Okay. Where did you go from here?”
She points. “See that post in the distance?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s where the scarecrow used to be. It’s where I hit my head and knocked myself out.”
“That’s pretty far for a little kid.”
“Believe me, it seemed like miles, especially when you can’t see over the corn stalks.”
I look around. “Praying mantises are green, right?”
“Yeah.”
I wrinkle my forehead. “How the hell could you chase it in here? Didn’t it blend in with the stalks?”
“Not really. It’s a different shade of green.”
“Ah,” I say. “Your photographer’s eye.”
“I suppose so. My mom actually asked me the same thing once I came to and told her what I was doing. To me, the greens are totally different.” She lets out a breath. She seems to be feeling better. Talking probably helps.