I used to be smooth like him once upon a time. Mostly, I can fake it now, but it doesn’t feel the same as when it came naturally. It always feels like I’m putting on a show, pretending to be someone else—someone who’s not broken.
Brody knows the darkest part of my soul and he’s still flirting with me.
His lips turn up at the edges. “Sorry. I keep promising to stop saying that shit and then I—”
I lean forward and capture his mouth with mine again. It’s the second time tonight I’ve found myself kissing him with no hesitance. Only seizing the moment.
Lucky protests in my lap, squirming to try to get away from us crushing her. I let her go, because right now all I can concentrate on is the man on his knees next to me, taking my mouth as if it’s something to not only treasure but protect.
The weird safeness I get with him churns in my gut again, and like the last few days, the internal debate of letting it happen and backing off has me on edge.
Brody’s tongue takes over like it did earlier, and I want to let it happen. I want to let him do whatever he wants to me right here on my dirty bathroom floor. I want to get him off. I want him to get me off.
I’m on that cliff—the one where I want to jump off and freefall. I want to let all my control go, bask in Brody’s touch, his mouth, his big hands. But my knees buckle, my heart stutters, and my head screams at me to back away.
Stupid brain.
Brody groans and cups the back of my head. He pulls me closer, and we shift around until Brody throws one of his legs over mine. We go from next to each other to him straddling me in the blink of an eye, and with my back pushed against the cold tile of the side of the bathtub and the heavy weight on top of me and no escape behind me, my body protests.
I’m trapped now.
Cue freak-out.
The whirring of the washing machine sounds like the storm clouds in my head.
I try to breathe, but with Brody’s tongue in my mouth, I can’t get air.
My body seizes up, trying for oxygen it can’t get. I need out, I need to breathe, I need—
As if sensing it, Brody pulls back. “Anders?”
His voice is soothing and actually helps. It sounds nothing like Kyle’s and calms me back to that safeness only Brody has the ability to give.
Even though I’m on the brink of a panic attack, my name on his lips has the ability to almost pull me out of it.
“Say it again,” I croak. I haven’t opened my eyes, but I know he’s right there.
“Your name?” he whispers.
I nod.
“Anders.”
I even manage a smile. “Kiss me again.”
Where I expect his lips, all I can feel is his weight shift as he climbs off me.
“Yeah, as much as I am dying to do that, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Now my eyes fly open. “Why not?”
He can’t do this to me. I’m having a therapeutic breakthrough here. Never since Kyle has someone been able to get me so keyed up and on the verge of letting go. I want to let go.
I’m so sick of being this way. Always in my head.
“You’re not telling me something.”
Oh, shit. “What do you mean?”
“Are you … did you … I mean … are you sure nothing sexual happened to you?”
“What?” My voice is shaky and does this high-pitched thing.
“I could feel you tense up just now. Like you weren’t into it or you were scared of me.”
“I am scared of you,” I admit.
Brody looks hurt, and fuck, I’d do anything to take that expression on his face away.
“I’m scared of everyone,” I continue. “When it happened … when I was attacked …” My throat starts to close up. “It literally came out of nowhere. I was taken off guard, and it all happened so fast … It’s not sex that scares me. It’s putting myself in a vulnerable position where if the situation turns, I’ll be helpless. I don’t trust anyone except for my brother. So, yeah, when you straddled me, I realised I was trapped, and my panic tried to take over.”
“Anders, I’m so sorry. If I’d known—”
I shake my head. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not. For the first time since it happened, I want to kiss someone and try to push through that haze of panic.”
Brody’s brows shoot up as if he’s surprised, but he schools his features quickly.
“That probably scares you. Hell, it’d scare me if I were you. It’s a lot of pressure. Forget I said anything.”
“It doesn’t scare me. What does scare me is doing something that might make you terrified of me. I can tell you until I’m blue in the face that I will never, ever hurt you, but I’m guessing words don’t change shit in that brain of yours.”