Page 23 of Pretty Broken Promises

Also, I don't know where her mom is right now, but I would imagine catching me sharing a bed with her daughter when she hasn't met me would probably not earn me any brownie points. Her dad and I are never going to get along and it would be nice to have a decent relationship with at least one of my girlfriend’s parents. Though we haven't had a chance to talk about it, I can tell that her relationship with her mom is everything she was wanting it to be.

We stand awkwardly in the dark living room. She seems uncertain about something and I'm still afraid I will do or say something that is going to scare her away. Eventually, we have to stop tiptoeing around each other, but for now, we really are acting like two people who are just getting to know each other.

One of us has to say something, the silence is nearly painful. I lift up both arms, each holding a different bag. “Do you mind showing me where to put these? I can carry your bag to your room first, and then you can show me to mine.”

There now, I've put it out there that I do not expect us to share a bed. Hopefully, that will make her more comfortable, because obviously she seems to be afraid that I have expectations she is not prepared to meet.

She doesn't say anything. She just turns abruptly around and marches straight through the house to the back. Off a long hallway, there is a large bedroom. It's somewhat like an apartment without having a kitchen. It has a small sitting area with a sleeping area to the side separated by a decorative screen that slides from floor to ceiling. There's a full bathroom that looks more like a spa. It's a very nice room, too nice to be a guest room.

“There's no way this is the guest room,” I blurt out.

“It's mine,” she says in a soft voice.

We're both tired, and not really thinking very clearly, but she has to see that I am six-four and there’s no way in hell my giant body is going to fit on that dainty little sofa. It's cute, but it would crack under my two hundred and eighty-pound body.

She catches me glowering at the couch, and giggles. “I have a huge bed, and it would be just to sleep.”

Slowly, I turn my head her direction. “Darlin’ even if you were giving me the green light, there's no gas in this tank to get you there.”

I did think ahead for this exact situation. Rather, I was hoping there would be a scenario where we had to stay in a hotel. Maybe they were nearly sold out, except for one last room that only had a single bed. I see it all the time in the books that Jen leaves lying around the apartment. I may have picked some up and flipped through them. Okay, so I jumped straight to the sex scenes. At least I used to, but the point is, I brought a pair of pajama pants. Something tells me that if I start to get naked, Tessa is going to freak the fuck out.

She grabs some clothes out of her bag and heads to her bathroom. While she is in there, I quickly change out of my clothes and pull on my flannel sleep pants. Tessa comes out of the bathroom, wearing a tiny pair of shorts and a small tank top. Suddenly, I might have more energy than I thought.

I'm gaping at her like a pubescent moron who has never seen a girl before, and she becomes self-conscious. She starts tugging at the bottom of her tank top. “I get hot when I sleep, you know that,” she says, as if seeing her gorgeous body in such a small amount of fabric is a hardship for me.

Well, I'm hard, but I won't say I don't like it. I just can't do anything about it. “I am not staring at you because Idon'tlike what you're wearing. It's quite the opposite,” I say pointedly.

“Oh,” she says breathily. Her eyes widen and she takes a step back.

I hold up a hand gesturing for her to stop. “I am able to control myself. I was just telling you that I don't hate what you're wearing. Would it be okay if I took my shirt off? Just my shirt I swear.”

She twirls a lock of hair around her finger, a nervous gesture I haven't seen her do in a long time. “Yeah, I guess that'll be okay.”

I reach behind my head and pull my shirt over and drop it on my bag next to the side of the bed. Her eyes are glued to my torso. It's not like we haven't seen each other over the last two years. We've even slept together in that time, but there wasn't a lot of emotional connecting. So it's not like she hasn't seen me without my shirt on, but you wouldn't know that by the way she's looking at me.

I clear my throat. “Should we—” I jerk my head toward the bed gesturing to the blankets. Still, she doesn't move. I grab them and turn the bed down.

“Sleep, Tessa, we need sleep.”

Without a word, she crawls in right after me and turns out the lights. I'm very careful not to invade her space. Not that it's difficult, she's hugging the edge of the bed as if she were going to fall off of it.

“Vixen, you can snuggle up to me, and trust that all we will do is sleep. Have I ever made you feel like I would do something that you didn't consent to?”

She's quiet for a moment, long enough that I start to sweat. Have I ever made her feel like I pressured her into something she wasn't ready for? I'll punch myself in the dick if I have. My reputation might be a bit overblown, but I have been with my fair share, or more than my fair share of women, not one of them did I have to manipulate into my bed.

Finally, in a low, thick voice, she says, “No, you've never done anything that I didn't agree to.”

“Have I ever done anything you didn't want? I don't give a fuck about what you agreed to. I'm not asking about whether I am legally responsible for something. I want to know did you ever feel like I pressured you or coerced you into doing something you weren't comfortable with. Please tell me, because I don't ever want you to feel like your wants and needs aren't important to me. Hell baby, they're all that's important to me.”

I feel the bed start to shake, and though she tries to hide it, it sounds like she's crying. I don't want what I think I know to be true, but still, I'm preparing myself to be there for her if it is. “Tessa, you're killing me baby, what can I do? How can I help you right now?”

The bed dips and I hear her body sliding against the sheets. The warmth emanating off her skin hits my body before her skin touches it. Her hand shakes as she reaches out and tentatively touches my chest. My heart is hammering inside its cage, I don't know if I want to go find her demons and fight them or take her and run somewhere safe. All of the things I want to do are active, but I know that what she needs is for me to just lay here. It's the hardest fucking thing I could think to do.

Her voice is very quiet and it cracks with emotion, when she eventually speaks. “Can you, could you just hold me for a while? Can we do that without me having to explain anything right now?”

My throat hurts with the effort to hold back the emotion that I feel swelling up inside of me. She doesn't need that from me right now. What she needs is for me to be steady. My imagination is running wild, because while I don't know the details, it's becoming very clear to me that my girl has survived an unimaginable hell. I have a sinking suspicion that it is all my fucking fault. Here I've been going on about how we shouldn't be placing blame on each other, but I have a feeling I'm not going to be able to let myself off from this one very easily.

I clear my throat. “I'll hold you forever. And you don't have to talk about anything right now. I won't make you talk until you're ready. I hope you will talk to me eventually. Right now you need to sleep, we both do. I would love it if you let me hold you. I don't know if it's what you need, but I need it.”

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