Page 110 of Look, Don't Touch

Arlo runs a hand up my arm, grounding me to the here and now. To his strength and presence.

“I should have run. I don’t know why I didn’t. Shock, I guess. My feet were glued to the floor. He said…” I stop with my heart clogging my throat. I cough and then stretch my neck. “That bastard said, ‘Aria tried to choose her family, but it was too late. She already chose me. You were trying to take her away from me.’ I couldn't say anything. I couldn’t even make a sound. My body pulsed with rage.”

The echoes of it radiate through me. “She was my mother. She belonged with me. Not him. And he, he was so unstable he couldn’t see anything but his delusion.”

A shiver wracks through me as though I’m still in that narrow room with him. “When he started down the hallway toward me, my anger turned to pure terror. He was coming to kill me. I knew it. My gaze flew right, and I saw it. The shotgun we kept behind the door. I grabbed it, cocked it, took the stance my dad taught me, aimed for center mass, and fired.”

I can see it still, the explosion of his chest, as though it happened eighteen minutes ago instead of eighteen years. Bile rises in my throat.

“He was so close his blood sprayed all over me. I was covered in it. Everything was.”

“Fuck, love.” His abused voice gives me strength.

“That’s what I said.” I press my palm to his cheek and relish the hint of stubble and raw heat. “When all the dust settled, and I was here in New York, I said fuck love because it had given me nothing but raging nightmares and horrible memories for a long, long time.”

“That’s why you chose the bench.” He states it as fact, and I could let him go on believing it was that simple.

“I was a twenty-two-year-old virgin because I wouldn't let anyone get close, emotionally or physically. When some of the guys in the psych department found out, I became a conquest.”

Arlo’s entire body tenses under me.

I pour as much warmth into my gaze as I can. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

He takes a shuddered breath.

“My virginity became this medal that I didn’t want. I didn’t care about it, and I didn’t want whoever got it to think about it as some special prize I was offering. So at a Christmas party, I found a guy I’d never seen before, dragged him into the bathroom, and made him fuck me from behind.”

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t have to force him.”

“No, but I should have had to.” I grimace. “He was Astor’s boyfriend.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. It was an all-in-all terrible experience, but I liked the sense of freedom it gave me. Everything was lighter and mattered less after that.” I bit my lip. “Then I started fucking in any and every bar or restaurant bathroom in all of Manhattan. No names. No contact before or after. Never from the front.” Disgust twists my stomach. “I always used protection, but still, it was risky as fuck.”

A couple of patrons wander into the room, key in on us, and then backtrack. Arlo runs a hand over my thigh. It urges me on.

“Astor found me in a bathroom after another one of my escapades. That particular time, I was so drunk that I hardly recognized her. Instead of berating or belittling me, which she really could have done without looking like the bad guy, she helped me get home. She got some food in me and stayed overnight to make sure I didn’t die. Over time, she made me realize that I would never be a successful therapist unless I started dealing with some of my trauma. She never asked what it was and never urged me to come clean. So naturally, when she was ready for clients, I became her first one.”

“The next time I see her,” Arlo grins. “I’m going to hug her.”

“She’ll lose her mind in the best possible way.” I smile back at him. “Eventually, I ended up at a sex club for the safety aspect and control it offered. Then years later, I joined Crave. But the bench and the blindfold were my insurance policies for never getting attached.”

My thumbs sweep up his cheekbones and the dips of his temples. “Because of Astor, Nat, and you, I can see that love wasn’t the issue. Not really.” I offer him a more sedate grin.

“Love gave me a great childhood. It gave me parents who believed in me and taught me so much about how to navigate the world. It’s been wrong of me to only focus on the horrific end.”

“It was what you needed to do to get through the trauma. Now, you can learn and grow and do better.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I’m often right.” The rasp rumbles in his wide chest.

“Oh yeah?” I push on his pec over his blue button-down.

“I can prove it.” He leans in, brushing his lips over my jaw. “This very moment you’d love nothing more than for me to take you home, tie you to your bed, and torture you with your drawer full of toys until you’ve come at least five times.”

My pulse skips from my neck all the way down to my clit. I blow a breath out through my lips and grab his tie. I pull him until we’re eye to eye. “Just because you’re right about that doesn’t mean that you’re often right.”

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