Page 18

Austin

His lips were right there.

Right there.

His bottom lip brushed over mine as he inhaled a sharp breath at what I’d said, but I didn’t think he’d done it on purpose.

Why had I opened my mouth? Why had I said something that made me so vulnerable?

But it was true. The more I was around Ford, the more I began to question everything. The more I wanted to figure out why everything inside of me was spiraling and shifting. Things I’d never had before, not even as a teenager, were waking and rising to the surface.

And I didn’t have a fucking clue what it meant.

All I knew was that it had to do with him.

Ford Fucking Priestley. The man who made me want to open up. The man who struck a match inside me and made everything burn hot. For what reasons? There were too many of them to say, and some of them I wasn’t even sure I could name.

His hand was on my chest, keeping my hammering heart from escaping. His eyes pinned me in place with a warmth glowing in them that I both hated and wanted to hold onto forever.

His gaze wasn’t sympathetic. It wasn’t understanding. It wasn’t pitying, either.

It was…

I couldn’t explain.

I liked it.

I fuckin’ hated it.

And his lips… were right there.

His breaths hit my skin, grounding me as he held me in place. As his gaze bore deeper into me, there was no denying that he was pleading with me to hold on. To keep him close. To see the truth in the words he’d said to me, the good he saw in me.

I wasn’t him.

I wasn’t my father.

I wasn’t the evil things he did to those innocent people.

I wasn’t a fucking monster.

But even as my brain registered these new things that I was so close to believing, there was only one thing I could focus on.

My hand wrapped around the back of his head, the silky strands oh his hair tickled my palm but it wasn’t enough to snap me out of it. I pulled his head in, closing the slip of air that separated us. Our lips met, his warm and soft against mine, and I froze. I didn’t know what to do then.

Okay, I knew what to do, but I didn’t know what I was doing.

It had been ten years since I kissed someone.

Ten years since I let myself even think of kissing.

Ten years… I’d been unknowingly holding in a secret. Too consumed by the hate and disgust I had toward myself because of the blood I had running through my veins to even notice.

It had been so easy to carve that part out of me. The part where I swore I wouldn’t let another person into my life again. The part where I didn’t think I deserved a relationship or any sort of close intimacy with someone else.

But… I’d never given much thought about why it had been so easy to do. Or how I’d never felt much before, not even with the girl that I first gave myself to and wanted to love.

And the guilt swirled in my stomach. That old familiar friend that I couldn’t get away from.

“I can’t,” I said, my voice cracking as I tore myself away from his mouth. My lids opened, but my gaze wouldn’t leave the ground. “I can’t… I don’t have that part of me anymore.” I choked, feeling like that statement was all wrong, but not understanding how.

I felt his considering gaze on me for a long time, his eyes searching my face, and I could almost feel him trying to pull all the answers out of the depths of my soul.

I didn’t push against his hold. No, I was broken and weak as I went limp, using his strength to hold me up. Trusting him to not let me drown in all the memories and feelings that were washing over me.

“I can’t let it out. Can’t let myself feel like this,” I said, as I buried my head in his chest.

Panic clawed at my insides. Acid burned a path up my throat. Unlocking this door was too much. All the things I’d stuffed in there like a closet full of random junk. It had been ready to explode for years, but I’d held strong, pressing my weight against the door even as I attempted to stuff more shit in there.

“He took her…” My words were muffled against his chest. Tears welled in my eyes. I’d never let myself cry for the things my father put me through. Put my family through. Put his victims and their loved ones through. I never grieved for my girlfriend, the one who was taken away from me by my own blood. I never let myself feel, because every time I thought about it, the darkness threatened to swallow me whole. “Right under my nose… I couldn’t stop him. I had no idea. The things he did…”

A tear slipped down my face, and it felt so fucked up that I snapped my mouth shut in an attempt to bury all the emotions back down. My sadness washed away, only to be replaced by anger. I could feel the way my gaze sharpened like knives as I lifted my head. I wasn’t angry at Ford. No, definitely not at him. But this anger had nowhere to go and I didn’t know what to do with it now that I’d set it free.

So… I was going to take it out on him. Even being aware of this wouldn’t stop me.

The next thing I needed to do was push him away. How had he gotten so close? How had he found the loose thread in my defense and gotten close enough to pull it, unraveling me in a way that no one had been able to before?

“You didn’t know. You couldn’t have,” Ford said, trying to reason with the anger inside of me.

His voice was so soft yet still stern, it made my head swim.

I needed to feel grounded… needed to feel him.

I didn’t resist the pull I felt to him, and I breathed a small sigh as my forehead came to rest against his, our noses brushing.

“I pushed it all down. Cut it all off after…” I dropped my gaze, insecure and scared about letting this part of myself free. He pressed his head harder into mine, forcing me to look back into his eyes. “I haven’t felt since I lost her. Haven’t let myself…”

“Is that how you want to go on?” he asked.

I didn’t really know what to say to that. I’d never had anyone ask me to be so open like this. Never had someone give me the words that I’d obliviously been craving to hear for ten damn years. Never had someone care enough to ask the question I didn’t even know needed to be asked.

Never had someone force me to look deeper inside of myself to find the truth… my truth.

Not just a place I put myself in because I was running from my past. Not a feeling I told myself to have because that was how it was supposed to be.

I was a mess. Confused. And completely clueless about this new thing that was happening inside of me.

Would it have been too cheesy to tell him that he’d woken up something inside of me and that I wanted nothing more than to give myself over to it? That I was eager for it. And how I wondered if he wanted it just as much as I wanted him to want it.

No… fuck no, I couldn’t say that shit to him. That was a level of dumb that I couldn’t let myself fall into.

But what could I say instead to let him know that I wasn’t oblivious to what was happening, I was just… inexperienced?

The internal me cringed at that.

Ford took over, the fingers of the hand over my heart curling, twisting the fabric as he held on and pulled me closer. His lips moved over mine, tentative kisses that were still somehow very sure. Like he was testing the waters of what he knew he wanted.

But did I? Is that what he was asking?

Did I know the answer to that?

Part of me must have since I’d pulled him closer.

“I want this,” I whispered against his lips.

My eyes fell closed and I let him hold me up as he kissed me harder. I gave myself to him, trusting him to take care of me.

And then I was kissing him back, my lips parting, inviting him in and hoping he’d accept.