Page 73 of Moving Forward

Once we’re in the truck she immediately crawls across the seat, closing the space between us. She presses a kiss against my shoulder and then lays her head on it. “My father was not happy that I was coming over to your place.”

“Likes to think his daughter virtuous, huh?”

“It didn’t help I told them I might not come home tonight.”

“You did?” I ask, swallowing thickly. My cock, which is always ready to go around her, twitches. The thought of her sleeping in my bed, letting me hold and kiss her, is overwhelming. My brain hasn’t even made it to the part where I bury myself deep inside her, and I’m already bothered and in desperate need of a cold shower.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Or maybe I did. I don’t know. I just thought maybe we might need a lot of time to talk.”

Her cheek is literally radiating heat. There’s something so cute about it I can’t help kissing her. She leans into my lips with a content purr. “I could get used to this. Being with you feels right.”

“Does, doesn’t it?” I lean my cheek against her soft hair. That three-word phrase is on the tip of my tongue again, but I hold back. Right now isn’t the time. I can’t be sure if any moment will be right enough.

By the time we get back to my boat, we’re both quiet. This evening feels weighted, as if it’s going to cause a shift in our relationship permanently. As if our future is being carved tonight.

She meets me on my side of the truck. I’m not sure which one of us grabs the other’s hand first, but our fingers immediately intertwine.

“Let’s stay out here for now. My boat is kind of . . . a mess,” I tell her with a meek smile.

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve heard. Whatever you want is fine with me.” She places a hand on my chest. “You don’t need to worry about scaring me off. I made a promise to you I intend to keep.”

I get she’s talking about a whole hell of a lot more than just my boat, so I nod, thankful to her for saying that. It makes my pulse slow, my mind clear. Knowing I have her makes everything clearer. I may need reassurance from her for the rest of my life.

I lead her to the edge of the dock and we both sit down. I take my shoes off and place them beside me, then roll up my jeans so I can dip my feet in water. Max lays her sandals next to mine, moaning. To say the look I give her is heated would be an understatement. If she starts making noises like that, we might not ever talk again.

“They hurt,” she clarifies. “Ellie let me borrow her shoes, and we are not the same size.”

I nudge her shoulder with mine playfully. “Wear your own shoes then.”

“I wish it were that easy. Ellie thinks all women were created to be her Barbie doll.”

I chuckle, leaning back on my hands. She kicks her feet in the water while I flounder, trying to decide what to say next. I know what I want to say and what I should say, but nothing’s ever that easy. I start simple. “I’m sorry, Max.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do. The last thing I wanted to do was leave you after your accident. I’d have given anything to see you. I stayed in the waiting room for an hour, hoping someone would let me back. I haven’t felt that desperate in a long time. You shouldn’t have had to wake up thinking I’d left you. And I shouldn’t have ignored your calls and texts. Tonight shouldn’t be the first time I’m seeing you.”

“Why did you leave? I know what Ellie said was harsh, but you had to have known I'd want you there anyway.”

“I blamed myself for what happened—”

She draws in a breath. “You shouldn’t have. I slipped. There was nothing you could’ve done. If someone else were there, the same thing would have happened.”

“On a logical level, I know. But I still blamed myself. Sometimes I feel like poison. The things I love—they all wither away eventually. I figured if I left you alone, you might be better off. I mean, you’ve gone through enough and you shouldn’t have to traverse my emotional trauma on top of it.” I look up at the sky and count the stars until I'm ready to continue. “I’m also self-aware enough to say I was being selfish. I’m no stranger to loss—it's almost destroyed me. The thought of losing you . . . I acted out of self-preservation. Even if you were safe, I knew at that moment I didn’t want to ever be without you. It was easier to walk away, because there’s this voice gnawing at my conscience, telling me you’ll eventually leave me behind.”

“I won’t,” she says emphatically. “You mean too much to me.”

“I believe you, but the doubt . . . it always wins.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Just be yourself. You’ve done so much for me already. You make me feel so many things, most of them I can’t even put into words.” I level my gaze back at the water. “The truth is, I need to talk to someone—a professional. There’s shit I need to work through and I won’t depend on you to help me through it. I need to do it on my own—prove to myself it’s possible.”

“I think that’s a good idea.”

“There are things I want to tell you. I will, eventually. Just not now. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes. However long you need, it’s yours. No matter what you’ve been through, we’ll work through it. You aren’t going to scare me off.”

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