Page 68 of Goode Vibrations

“Pop?”

“Mmm?”

He hesitated. “Come here.” Arm extended, up over my head.

“I’m scared, too.”

“Why?”

I had to keep my eyes closed and let the truth come out in a whisper he must have had to strain to hear, even mere inches away. “I’m afraid to let you close and then…and then lose you.”

His palms cradled my face. “Poppy.”

I shook my head, hating the tears, hating even more the awful vulnerability. “You can tell me you won’t. You can say all the right things. You’re a storyteller, Errol. But that doesn’t change how afraid I am of really letting you in. I can tell you my story and I can pick up the weight of yours, we can share pain and fuck like champions, but…the real stuff? The deep stuff? It’s fucking terrifying.”

“I know,” he whispered. “Just…try? This little step, one little step. Just let me hold you.”

“I don’t know how to let you hold me.”

He laughed. “Well, that works out because I’ve got no clue how to hold you. I’m not a cuddler.”

I snorted, a distinctly undignified splutter. “Well, we’ve got that in common, if nothing else.”

He slid his arm under my neck, and I went stiff as a board all over. He drew me in, brought me closer. Body to body, and he was as stiff and awkward as I was. But my head was on his chest, and I could hear his heartbeat.

“Just…breathe with me, Pop,” he said. “Breathe in…”

We dragged in deep, slow, noisy breaths together.

“And out…”

Exhaled together. I felt myself softening.

“I’ll be here with you when you wake up, Poppy. No expectations of anything. We just wake up together.”

I felt my heart yearning for him. For what he was offering. For the shelter. The safe harbor of his arms.

“You can’t take this away from me, Errol,” I whispered, the words wet with tears. “You can’t give this to me and then take it away.”

“I won’t.”

“How can you promise that?”

“I can promise it because I…because I need it from you just as badly, Poppy. I’m just as scared as you are.”

I nuzzled closer. Burrowed into his hold, my nose against his chest, his heartbeat under my ear. His arms encircled me, strong bands of iron holding me together when everything else inside was threatening to burst open, to fall apart.

He smelled like comfort. Wood smoke and skin, male scent. His breathing was soft and deep and slow.

I didn’t have todoanything.

Beanything, or anyone.

I didn’t have to perform.

I didn’t have to talk, or share, or give or take.

Just…be.