“I CAN’T!” he roars as his head snaps up, eyes wild, chest heaving. “Because it wasn’t nothing! It was fucking everything! Don’t you get that?”
His words are poison in my veins. This is it, the one puzzle I can’t piece together. I know better than to let a man play me the way my father has all these years. I let him see a part of me that no man has ever seen. I did it for Trick, my best friend—only Trick. “I don’t understand.” I shake my head, confusion distorting my thoughts. He cradles my face. I swallow hard. “But you’re gay.”
“I’m not.”
I continue to shake my head. “B-but I asked you if I was the first woman you’ve been with.”
He shakes his head. “No…” resting his forehead on mine, he closes his eyes “…you asked me if you were the first woman I’ve made love to.”
His words slice through me as the sting of deception and lies taints everything I thought we had. I shove him away, leaving him looking defeated, like a wounded animal. “You sick fuck! Why? Who does that? Huh? Is this some bi-sexual game you and Grady play on women? I have feelings! Real. Fucking. Feelings! I shared things with you I’ve never shared with anyone!” I wipe my watery nose in real ladylike fashion with the back of my hand. “I hate you.” I step backwards toward the elevator.
Trick eases forward. “Darby.”
“Don’t Darby me, you bastard!” I flip the switch to bring the elevator back up. “I hate you,” I sob.
He backs me into the wall. “Darby …”
“I hate you so much!” My tears feel like acid on my cheeks—my gut punched, my heart crushed.
Trick wipes his thumb along my wet cheek. “Well, I love you.”
Smack!
He closes his eyes absorbing the impact of my hand on his face.
“Don’t say that to me.” I glare at him, anger seething from my words.
He opens his eyes. “I love you.”
Smack!
He swallows hard and opens his eyes again. “I love you.”
Smack! Smack! Smack!
He takes everything I give him as if he needs it. I bang my fists against his bare chest. “You don’t deserve to love me! I hate you … I hate you … I hate you.… I-I …” I collapse against his chest, my body heaving in waves of painful, breaking sobs. “I-I love you.”
He wraps one arm around me and rests his other hand on the back of my head, then he kisses the top of it.
*
Surrender. I will never love myself for hating him, nor will I ever hate myself for loving him. So there really is only one choice: love him.
The words we’ve shared have been beautiful, ugly, and the whole universe in between. There’s still so much to say, but as Trick takes my hand and leads me into his bathroom, I allow him to say so much more than words ever could.
He turns on the shower, a large rainfall of water cascades from a mammoth rectangular shower head suspended directly above it. Turning back toward me, he pauses, staring into my eyes. They bleed with emotion, and tears would form if I hadn’t already let them run dry.
He undresses me with slow, gentle moves as I stand and watch. Then he does the same to himself before leading me into the steamy shower. I close my eyes and melt into his loving touch. Patient hands massage my scalp and caress my body. Occasionally I feel his lips press to my skin and just linger—never demanding, always giving.
On his knees, he touches my body with complete adulation—he loves me. With gentle pressure, he curls his fingers into the curve of my butt while resting his forehead against my belly. I move my hands to his head. He looks up at me, blinking away the rivulets of water.
“You scare me, Trick.”
He sits down on the floor of the shower and pulls me onto his lap so we’re nose to nose. “You scare me too.” He grins and I kiss him, diving headfirst into the unknown.
I don’t want to need him, but I do. I don’t want to love him … but I do. Breaking our kiss, I rise up onto my knees and touch him for the first time. He closes his eyes briefly then opens them, jaw slack. The little part of me that still questions his sexuality evaporates as he kisses my breasts, tickling my sensitive flesh with his bristly face.
He takes my heart so completely; and if he gives it back I know it’s the one puzzle I’ll never be able to put back together again. I sink onto him, letting him fill me in every way possible.
*
A soft beam of moonlight falls on our naked bodies tangled in the sheets. Resting my chin on his chest, I trace the tattooed wings along his shoulder as my mind sorts through the reality of our situation. Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed. A smarter woman would have walked out the door, refusing to be played for such a fool.