There was that word again. Special. I fucking hated it, it was awful. So I went in for the kill.
“Tell me why I’m special then,” I bit out. “Tell me why.”
For sure, I thought Mr. Channing would choke. I thought he wouldn’t be able to get out the words, or even if he did, that they’d be glib and unfeeling, just some fake lines from a Valentine’s card. But instead, the alpha took my hands again, looking deep into my eyes.
“You’re special because you’re you, Laney. You’re special because you’re beautiful and sassy, you don’t take no for an answer. Look what you’ve done here,” he said, gesturing to the small office. “You’ve built a thriving business for yourself, teaching ballet to kids. And even more, you did it after a crazy woman held a gun to your head, stalking you like a fucking criminal. But you didn’t give in. You’re tough while being gentle, strong while being soft, and everything I need in a woman. You, Laney Jones,” he finished gently. “Are everything I’ve been looking for, and I’ve been looking a long time. So I’m not gonna let you get away, baby, not now, not ever.”
I couldn’t breathe for a moment. Really? Thorn was impressed because I was teaching ballet to kids? Because I picked myself off the floor, dusting myself off after a series of horrific incidents? It couldn’t be.
“I’m not special,” I said softly, looking away. “You’ve got it wrong Thorn.”
But the big man wouldn’t be dissuaded. He pulled me close this time, gently touching those lips to mine before looking me in the eyes, that blue gaze intense yet gentle, piercing my soul.
“You are,” he reiterated, his breath a breeze across my lips. “You are, Laney Jones. You just won’t let yourself believe that you’re someone amazing, someone with a lot to offer. Let it go, little girl, and just believe.”
And my heart burst like a dam then, insides flooding with warmth, lungs finally expanding so that I could breathe again. Because he was right in a way. I’ve always had an inferiority complex for a variety of reasons. Because I’m a big girl. Because I’m from a rural town in the middle of nowhere. Because I didn’t go to college, because I’m bad with computers. The reasons piled up but maybe Thorn was right in this case. Maybe I had a lot to offer, and I’d been selling myself short. Maybe my confidence was shot, but this man had seen to the core, and valued me for who I was, just me, one hundred percent Laney Jones.
And I took a deep breath then, lungs filling with oxygen, a huge weight lifting off my shoulders. Maybe I deserved good things in life, maybe I should stop looking over my shoulder, always thinking something terrible was going to come crashing down. So smiling tentatively, I looked up at him, caramel eyes meeting blue.
“Are you sure, Thorn?” I asked throatily. “Because I don’t I could survive if this didn’t work. I don’t think I’d come out alive.”
The alpha threw his head back and laughed then, white smile gleaming. I frowned, walls going up again. What was so funny? What had I said that was so hilarious? But he calmed then, pressing another delicious kiss to my lips before speaking.
“Honey, that’s what I love about you, but that’s also what we’ve gotta fix. Because baby, you’re a survivor. Can’t you see? You’ve survived so much already, you’ve come out alive again. You underestimate yourself, honey. You’re amazing, and you don’t even know it.”
And with that, I took another deep breath. Because maybe this man was right. My inferiority complex was ingrained, I’d been like this my whole life and it was tough to change. But change was already in the works. I had my own business now, kids who called me “Miss Jones,” and I was building a stable life out here. With Thorn’s support, maybe I could do even more, I’d could grow confident and assertive, smiling and joyful instead of shy and meek.
“Mr. Channing,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I think you’re right. I think you might just be right.”
And with that, the billionaire swept me into his arms for a deep, passionate kiss, our mouths locking, our bodies speaking words that couldn’t be said. Because before, I’d thought my relationship with Thorn was too good to be true. The alpha wanted to use my body because I was a curvy, luscious eighteen year-old ballerina, desperate to make a good impression on the man in charge. But somehow, that’s changed. I’m still curvy and young, yes, but our relationship has evolved. In our time apart, I’ve become someone different, mature and knowing, with my own thing. And with Thorn’s support, I’m going to grow more, I’m going to become more confident, expressing myself instead of waiting for others to give orders.