Page 10 of Surrendered to the Mountain Man

Dyson took a few steps back and looked around. “Why don’t we sit down?”

That was a good idea. I was suddenly feeling lightheaded, and I had no idea why. The alcohol maybe? Or it could just be that everything that had happened in the past couple of hours had finally caught up with me.

He took the chair in the corner, while I settled onto the end of the bed. Close enough to see him but not so close that it would scramble my brainwaves. I needed to think clearly. I needed to work through whatever was going on with me...before I lost this guy forever.

“You felt rejected when your parents did that,” he said.

“All my life,” I said. “I was too young to really understand it when it happened, of course. But later, I’d ask my grandmother questions, and she’d refuse to answer. She just said my dad married that hussy and got what he deserved.”

“Whoa,” he said. “Your grandmother told you that?”

I nodded. “She did the best she could at the time. She never signed on to raise her son’s daughter.”

“You deserved a parent who loved you,” Dyson said. “Every kid deserves that.”

“I agree.”

After a long silence where he stared down at his drink, he asked, “Is that why you ran out of that closet?”

His somber tone tugged at my heart. Was it possible I’d hurt him? It wouldn’t be the first time. I’d crushed a few guys over the years—friends who wanted to be more, first dates that never led to anything... But those wounds had been surface. Those guys weren’t all that invested.

This time was different, and I couldn’t pinpoint the reason. Maybe it was that this time, I was invested. For the first time in my life, I wanted something to work out.

“I’ve always pushed people away,” I said. “That’s why I’m telling you all this. ‘Reject them before they can reject you.’ That’s pretty much been my default mode.”

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

He looked up at me then, and I saw it in his eyes. Not just hurt. No, this went deeper. Beneath that tough exterior, he was a guy who was just as afraid of this as I was. He didn’t want to have his heart broken, and I stood to break it.

Because he really cared.

That thought slammed into me, making the reality of this situation all too clear.He cared. Already. And this was only the beginning.

“I’m scared,” I said, breaking a long silence.

“Me too,” he said. “I think that’s a sign we’re really living, though.”

He made a good point. I was only twenty-three, but if I kept pushing people away, I’d spend the rest of my life alone, and that was no way to live. I wanted a husband and kids. I wanted the family I’d never had.

“I’m sorry I walked out,” I said, staring down at my drink. “I’ve never done anything like that. I wasn’t sure how to act afterward, and...”

We’d already established I was scared, so I went silent. What else was there to say?

But when I looked up, it was clear there was plenty more to say. He was staring at me, eyes wide. It might be my imagination, but I’d swear he was a couple of shades whiter than he’d been before.

“You’ve never done anything like what?” he asked.

Oh. I’d dropped a bomb without even realizing it. I could tell him I’d never done any of it—been naked in front of a man, touched a penis, had an orgasm, done anything in a closet, including kissing. But there was one piece of information he needed to know more than all that.

“I’m a virgin,” I blurted.

A long silence followed. I didn’t dare move. I barely breathed. I waited for his reaction, hoping he wouldn’t be repulsed by my lack of experience.

“I don’t understand,” he finally said, narrowing his eyes as he seemed to study me. “You said you went to college.”

Had I said that? I didn’t even remember.

“I push people away,” I reminded him. “I’m twenty-three years old, though, and I don’t want to push people away anymore. I don’t want to push you away.”

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