Page 222 of Unexpected Hero

“Nah. You’re going to be fine, sugar bear. Come sit.” I pat the tops of my thighs. “I’ll be right here with you the entire time.”

Her shoulders lift toward her ears as she fills her lungs. After she expels her breath, her face looks serene yet determined.

She was brave last night when we recorded our adventures, but a day later, she’s apprehensive.

Moments like these remind me how far she’s come. A year ago — hell, two months ago — she wouldn’t have been able to even talk about watching herself. And wearing what she wore last night was even further from possible.

She’s a butterfly, finally out of her cocoon.

Once she’s on my lap, I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her close. She covers my forearms with hers and weaves our fingers together.

“I’m ready,” she announces in an airy wisp, her head facing the laptop on the coffee table in front of us.

Before I hit play, I take a moment to revel in the quiet pleasure of having her tucked in my embrace. I never thought I’d have someone to spend time with this way. As simple as it may seem to others, the mere idea that I’d be reclining on my couch with a woman like her was out of the realm of possibility. I didn’t know I could tolerate this much affection, let alone crave it.

When you’re denied love all your life, you eventually stop reaching for it.

Yet somehow, I’ve found myself holding love in my arms.

She said she loved me last night, and I know she means it.

I wanted to say it back so damn badly.

But I can’t. Not yet.

Not until I’ve come clean with her about everything.

Throat tightening, I kiss the side of her neck and inhale her sweet scent. “Happy anniversary, Lettie.”

She cricks her neck to glance at me over her shoulder. A face-splitting grin brightens her expression. “That was last night.”

“But I forgot to tell you then since you left me speechless when you waltzed in here looking like all my fantasies come to life. Speaking of forgetting, I have your gift in the other room. Don’t let me forget again tonight.”

She rolls her eyes. “Good call. Put the girl with ADHD in charge of remembering shit.”

I squeeze her waist. “Hop up. I’ll get it now.”

With a shake of her head, she lets her facade slip. “No. It can wait until later. If I get up now, I can’t promise I’ll be brave enough to sit back down to do this.” She gulps, her gaze falling to my chest.

I remove one hand from her waist and tilt her chin so she’s looking at me.“You’re so brave, Lettie. I’m very proud of you.”

“Will you still be proud of me if I can’t watch the whole tape?”

“Don’t be silly. It’s a video recording on your phone, not a tape,” I tease, aiming to steady her with a joke.

“Har, har, har.” She clicks her tongue at me. “I’m serious. I was so sure I was ready last night, but now I don’t know. Maybe I’ll never be ready.”

“Sweetness, listen to me. The woman who I tied up last night in over a hundred feet of hemp rope is not the same woman who cried the first time I made her climax. You’ve already come so far. There’s no timeline for this. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her cheeks redden, and her chin wobbles. “What if I can’t go any further?”

“That wouldn’t change anything. You’re still perfect to me and always will be. If you’re happy, that’s all I need. Always.”

My throat is suddenly an arid desert full of rolling tumbleweeds.

I shouldn’t say these things to her. I’m promising her forever when I know I can’t deliver it. No matter how fiercely I wish I could.

As much as she needs my reassurance, it will only make things so much worse.

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