Instantly I still.
A second later, James sighs with obvious disappointment.
Relaxing his body around me, yet another kiss is pressed against the top of my head.
Then he breathes into my ear, “Sweet dreams, Sophia.”
11
Sophia
We all have our weaknesses. Weaknesses we don’t get to choose and can’t always control. The best we can do is try to overcome them.
And that’s what I spend the night doing.
Trying to overcome James and the unwanted attraction I have for him.
An attraction I never asked for, but exists nonetheless.
No longer able to live in denial, I accept that it’s been there since the moment we met. And, if I’m being really honest with myself, it was still there when he pushed me away.
Somehow it even survived when I found out exactly who he is.
I did my best to fight it.
I buried it deep, where it lingered under anger and betrayal. Weakened and repressed.
But never completely vanquished.
And even more dangerous when pressed up against him with his heat against my ass and his chest warming my back.
I suppose it was the attraction that kept me from stabbing him in his sleep last night when he spent the night on my couch.
The thought crossed my mind a time or two.
And I suppose it’s what has me so conflicted and confused now as I squirm out of his embrace.
Squirm and wiggle, only to be yanked right back.
No matter how many times I try to escape, he always pulls me back. Wrapping me up in his arms. Forcing this on me, whether I want it or not.
And I don’t want it.
God, I do not want it.
I refuse to fall for him. Not only because is he the worst possible person I could fall for. I can’t fall for him because I made a promise to myself after my mother passed away. After witnessing her death devastate my poor father, I promised myself I’d never fall in love so I wouldn’t have to go through what he did.
I’ve never wanted to be weak or exposed like that.
Yet here I am…
Exposed and raw in James’s arms.
Wondering how I’m going to escape with my heart intact.
James’s starts to relax around me again, his breathing deepening as he drifts to sleep.
As soon as I so much as I twitch, his arms tighten around me. Even in his sleep, he’s afraid I’m going to slip away.
Dammit.
Why did he have to declare his intentions?
Why did I have to ask the questions I did?
It would be so much easier to deal with all of this if I could still believe he was a murderous monster.
But he’s not a murderous monster. He’s not even the villain.
With just a few words, he’s declared himself my personal hero.
And I believe him.
I don’t want to believe him. Lord knows, I don’t want to believe him.
But I would just be fooling myself if I refused to accept all the evidence.
I still don’t know who killed my father. Maybe it was the Russians. Maybe it was one of Lucifer’s other men…
But it wasn’t James.
And I hate him a little for it.
God, it’s sick to admit that. It’s sick to even think.
But I hate that James can’t be the evil man I expected him to be because it gives me one less reason to despise him.
At this point, I need every reason I can get.
Pressure builds around my sinuses as my throat closes up and my eyes begin to swell with unshed tears.
I want to scream. I want to rage at the heavens for everything that’s happened. I want to ask God why. Why is he doing this to me?
Isn’t he only supposed to give us as much as we can handle?
This is too much. I can’t handle it… I can’t…
But I’m not alone so I hold it back.
Despite not letting my tears fall, my body begins to shudder as each breath I pull in becomes impossibly thick.
James stiffens, and though his voice is soft, it’s heavy with concern. “Sophia?”
When I refuse to answer him, he forces me to roll over so that I’m facing him.
Brushing my hair back like he has the right to be so intimate with me, he asks, “Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”
Planting my palms on his hard chest, I try to shove away from him instead.
Grabbing me by the ass, he pulls me right back.
“Sophia… please…” he pleads.
Maybe it’s the sound of pleading in his voice that breaks me, or maybe it’s simply the fact that he cares so much he asked, but one sob slips free.
Followed by another.
And another.
Until I’m crying uncontrollably.
The stiffness going out of his body, James tries to soothe me by stroking my head, my back, and my cheeks.
Telling me everything’s going to be okay.
He’ll take care of me…
But nothing’s going to be okay ever again.
Because despite how good it feels to be held. How good it feels to have someone stronger than me ready to protect me and take care of me.