Page 30 of We're Not Strangers Anymore

“I told you already. I didn’t want to be caught up in his shady lifestyle.” I look down at my hands feeling uncomfortable with the subject.

“No I know that part– but why didn’t you keep in contact? I mean it’s one thing to move just to get away from it but you completely cut ties with him. Why?” I hate being asked questions about my dad. It brings up too many unsettled emotions.

“There is an answer to that but I’d need another glass of wine.” I laugh, trying to lighten the conversation.

“Rowan,” he searches my eyes, “what are you not telling me?”

“It’s complicated, okay? Not something I care to talk about in the middle of the day. Someone like you can’t understand because your family is close.” I snap. Why does he need to know so bad? I’m not going to spill my guts to him about things that don’t matter.

The soft patter of rain begins tapping the windows of the cabin. The gentle sound quickly intensifies turning into a steady downpour. “We have to shut the windows, I guess we have no time to talk about it.” I say, rising from the couch to the windows, closing them one by one. I return to the couch, settling beside Grayson.

“So what’s your favorite movie?” I attempt to change the subject.

“Rowan.”

“What, Grayson?” I snap, sharper than I intended.

“I’m not trying to push you, but all I want is for you to talk to me. You keep acting like we’re still strangers and we’re not.” He says tensely.

“It’s in the past, Grayson.” I stand abruptly. Grayson rises from the couch, and takes a step behind me, clasping my wrist in his hand.

“I’m just trying to understand you.” He says, gently pulling me into his chest.

“I don’t want you to understand.” I choke as tears begin to fill my eyes. He sits back on the couch pulling me into his lap.

“If you talk to me I’ll never bring it up again, I promise.”

“You really want to know?” I pull away, searching his eyes.

“Yes, Row.” He says, barely above a whisper.

I take a deep breath and look up at the ceiling trying to compose myself. “My dads been an alcoholic ever since I can remember. He used to be happy and fun when he got drunk but that kind of– shifted, when I was about nine years old.”

“Shifted how?” He gently probes.

“Well– there was this one day, I forgot to take chicken out of the freezer so that I could cook dinner for him after work– he said cooking was my moms job and ever since she had left, it became my job. Anyway, it was too late to defrost it because he was going to be home soon, so I put a frozen pizza in theoven instead. He got home and I told him that I’d forgotten and that we were having the pizza for dinner. He punched me square in the face. He had never hit me before until then. Long story short– that was just the start of the next nine or ten years of daily beatings, after the first year I kind of just– stopped feeling it.” I sigh. “That first day when he hit me I accidentally fell into the china cabinet and the glass on the door broke.” I sweep my hair to the side and show him the scar on the nape of my neck. “He took a piece of the broken glass and cut me with it. Needless to say I always remembered to take the chicken out of the freezer after that.” I let out a dry laugh, trying to act like it didn’t phase me, but when I turn to look at Grayson, I see the rage in his eyes. His jaw clenches and he just stares at me for a moment. His eyes soften when he realizes that he’s staring at me, and he brushes my hair over my shoulder, gently pressing his lips to the scar.

“You’re an angel, Rowan, and no one will ever hurt you again.” He whispers against my skin. A jolt of electricity shoots through me at the feeling of his lips brushing my neck.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” I whisper, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He lifts me over him and I straddle his lap. Every part of me just wants to forget this conversation and feel his lips wash away every word spoken from them. He gently grips the backof my hair, pulling my head back and slowly trails kisses up my neck. Chills wash over me at the feeling and my nipples harden through my thin white, oversized T-shirt. He snakes his arm under my thigh and pulls his head back from my neck.

“Let me change the subject then.” He growls.

In one swift movement he lifts me onto his shoulders, slips my panties to the side and presses his tongue inside my pussy. I steady myself, gripping the back of the couch for support. He thrusts his tongue deeper inside of me and before I can scream he clasps his tattooed hand over my mouth, muffling it. I inhale deeply, his earthy scent of bergamot and patchouli sending a wave of heat through my core. He grips my hips, dropping my back to the couch with his tongue still plunged inside of me and lightly traces a hand up my body. I grip his hair as his rough palm grazes my nipple and he kneads my breast while picking up the speed between my legs. My back arches and I let out a soft scream as I tip over the edge and feel my arousal pool between my thighs. He sits up while I lay still on the couch for a moment, the room filled with nothing but the sound of the rain and our heavy breaths.

“How did talking about my past turn into this?” I say, breaking the silence.

“You wanted to stop thinking about it and from what I’ve seen so far, letting me get you off is your favorite way to cope.” He chuckles dryly.

“No it’s not– I’m not coping with anything.” I say, suddenly feeling exposed.

“It’s okay, Row. You’re dealing with some shit and you crave intimacy, it’s nothing to be ashamed about.” He says casually.

“Well thanks for the sessionDoctor Philbut I’m not going through anything and I definitely do not crave intimacyespeciallywith you.” I snap, springing off of the couch and trampling up the creaky wooden stairs. I wish I could just run away from here. Fromhim.He makes me feel too much and I’m embarrassed that I told him about my childhood. I’m even more embarrassed that I let him go down on me right after. He thinks he found my weak spot now and it’s all just a game to him.

Rowan

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