Page 86 of Getting It Twisted

I lean against the porch railing and gaze out at the frost-covered lawn. A windless chill clings to the air, signaling winter’s arrival.

“There you are.”

I turn around. I didn’t even notice the door opening.

Daniel smiles, hands in his pockets. His hair is wet, and a shadow of worry from earlier this morning still lines his face. He walks over to me and lifts his hand, brushing his finger over my lower lip.

I freeze in place. What the hell’s up with me? Daniel’s touched me like this loads of times; I should be used to it by now.

“Did you have breakfast?” he asks, and I nod. He adjusts the lapels of my patterned woolen coat with a smirk. “Cute jacket.”

“George has shit fashion sense.”

“I think this was his grandma’s old coat actually. I bet you can keep it if you want.”

“Whatever,” I say with an eye roll, but I can’t help but smile.

This is where we met—on this porch, in that crazy thunderstorm all those weeks ago. Instead of slamming me to the wall and yelling in my face like he did back then, Daniel presses me softly against the railing, hands on my hips.

I breathe through the increasing beat of my heart. “He said he’d let me stay here.”

“George did?”

“Yeah. Just until you and I get a place of our own.”

“So you’re selling your mom’s house?”

I give a one-shouldered shrug. “Well, it’s either that or torch the place.”

He brushes my bangs out of my face. Tugs at the hair on my nape. My eyelids flutter closed with the treatment. I feel like a dog being petted. Feels nice. Warm and safe.

This seems so easy. Maybe Daniel’s right: Maybe wewillfigure this out after all. Maybe the universe will grant me this one wish. I pray I won’t fuck it up this time.

He glances down to my mouth, but before his lips touch mine, I pull back a bit.

“Don’t go all sappy on me now. I still want you to fuck my brains out, you know.”

His smile turns sly. “Don’t worry. I will.” He noses into my neck, breath hot against my ear. “But I want to make love to you too.”

I grimace. “Make love to me? Sounds—”

“Don’t say it sounds boring,” he warns.

I glance down, trying but failing to hide my blush. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I love you,” he says plainly. “Is it really that hard to believe?”

“No. I mean, I’ve never . . . done this before.” I gesture between the two of us. “All I ever wanted from guys was to get fucked, quick and dirty. And that’s all they ever wanted from me too.”

Daniel cups my chin, tilting my face up to make me meet his eyes. “Want to know what I think? I think you need more than that. You need someone who’ll take care of you and care for you. I’ll do it. If you’ll let me.”

“I don’t need . . . ,” I begin, but Daniel sends me a pointed look that makes me lose all train of thought. I whisper, “Okay.”

And it’s like a great weight lifts from my shoulders—immense from years past, through pain and through shadow. Whenever I’m vulnerable like this, the initial relief is usually followed by pain and, with it, a childlike urge to curl in on myself. To take back what I just lost.

The relief comes first: in the warmth that fills my chest as Daniel’s arms wrap around me and his hand rubs little circles at the back of my head.

I wait for the pain, but . . .

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