Page 90 of Daisy

"About a year," August says. "Since the night we met."

She leans forward, surprised.

"You fell in love that fast?"

"I fell in love the moment he showed up and saved me." August's scent goes warm.

"Didn't save you," I mutter under my breath. "Other way around."

Heat crawls up my neck. I remember that night. The rage that consumed me when I saw that bastard touching August. Knew for damn sure I'd kill before letting anyone hurt him.

Same feeling I get when I think about anyone hurting Daisy.

"And you?" Those dark eyes lock on mine. "When did you know?"

When did I know?Hell.

"When he asked me to stay," I say, my voice rougher than I want. "When he saw how fucked up I was and... asked me to stay anyway."

"What was wrong with you?"

Everything.

"Was living rough. Fighting for cash." I run my hand through my hair. "Had nothing. Just... violence and shit that would give people nightmares."

"Cassian," August warns quietly.

But I keep talking. She wants to know? She gets to know.

"Foster care till I aged out." I clench my fists. "Dad went feral when I was eight. Killed my mom before..." I can't finish that. "Bounced around after that. Got too big, too angry. Nobody wanted to deal with me."

Her scent spikes. Sympathy, maybe.

"That sounds horrible."

"It was." I lean forward. Elbows on knees. "I don't... I'm not good at..." Fuck. How do I explain this? "Violence was all I knew. Still is. August deserved someone who wasn't broken."

Through our bond, I feel August's response. Not pity, but fierce protectiveness and love. The same certainty that's kept us together for a year.

I shouldn't have said that. Shouldn't have?—

"But you stayed." She says simply. Like it matters more than all the rest.

"He made me want to try being better." I look at August. See the soft affection there. "Made me believe I could be worth something."

The way she's looking at me now. Like she's trying to understand instead of just being afraid. Does things to my chest. Makes something tight ease up.

And her scent. Getting sweeter. Richer. Like my honesty turns her on.

"Can I ask you something?" Her voice goes shy.

"Anything."

"Are you afraid of me?” I shake my head.Never.

“Are you afraid of me being afraid of you?"

Gut punch. Because yes.Fuck yes.