Page 100 of If Only In Our Dreams

Robin nodded jerkily, mouth clicking shut as he melted into my side. His eyes were doing that thing again. Growing far away, like he was imagining the best path to take as he ran.

“Robin,” I murmured a third time. I waited till his eyes focused again, and I had his full attention. “I have known since our very first conversation that one day someone might see us together, might take a photo, might expose me and my secrets.”

“Everyone will find out about the werewolf porn, Ben,” Robin’s voice was high-pitched, like he was trying to sound like he was joking when he wasn’t. “They’ll dig up everything. There’s no such thing as true privacy. After a certain point, you’re not a person anymore. Good or bad, everyone will have an opinion about you.”

I understood what he was saying, but he didn’t seem to understand that I already knew that. “Sweetheart,” I murmured, my hand squeezing the back of his neck tight. He fought at first,growing stiffer, harder—until abruptly, all at once, he melted, slumping into me gratefully.

“The camera flashed and I just—” his voice was quaking. “I saw your life flash before my eyes. All the things you’d miss out on because of me. All the sacrifices you’d have to make—just because we were together.”

Sothiswas why he always looked ready to run.

It made sense, in a sad, cosmic way.

That here Robin was, beloved by thousands—maybe millions—and in his head he was still the scared little boy whose father had tricked and hurt him. The same little boy that was constantly ignored by his mother. The same little boy who had never felt like he was enough. Who had turned away his chance at a family because he was terrified he would fail the people he loved most. The same little boy who had been conditioned to expect the worst from everyone and everything.

Except…

Apparently me.

Otherwise he wouldn’t be here clinging to me. Wouldn’t be showing me his exposed heart like he knew I’d protect it more fiercely than he ever had. Robin had not only just given me the keys to his heart, he’d opened the lock himself.

It was humbling to be privy to Robin’s darkest secrets.

And I vowed to myself to keep them—and him—safe.

And maybe, just maybe, if I could make him realize the roadblock in his own head, it would mean that there was a future for us outside Belleville and its walls. Like a stray cat, he needed coaxing. Needed to be shown, rather than told.

Still though, there had never been a time in my life when I’d regretted hearing a kind word or reassurance. So I figured I’d start there.

“Robin,” I tried for a fourth time, this time lacing a quiet command in my words. He remained relaxed like it was mybossiness that allowed him to settle. Which was…good to know. “I am well aware of what could happen,” I reassured him again, keeping him close. “And I can tell you right now, that there is nothing that could scare me off.”

He stared at me, like he was looking for a lie, even though there wasn’t one.

“I know because of what you’ve been through, it might be difficult to believe that I’m not lying,” I reassured, because he needed to hear this. “I know that trust for you is hard won. I told you once that I don’t break promises—which I know again, might be hard to believe. It might take a long time for you to understand that I am sincere. That I am not like your father, or your mother, or any of the other people that have wronged you. But I am patient and you are worth the wait, however long it takes. I am a very difficult man to frighten. Especially considering the fact that since the day that I met you all you’ve done is make my life better. And in the meantime, if my secrets are the price I need to pay to keep you, then I will gladly give them away.”

“Good things are worth hurting for.”

Mama’s words came rushing back to me as I pressed a kiss to Robin’s forehead. His skin was no longer quite so cold. He’d stayed quiet the entire time I spoke, listening to me with his heart still hovering vulnerable between us.

“You’re notpoison, baby,” I promised, lips still pressed to his skin.

Robin inhaled sharply, a panicked little sound. “Damn. I hate that you remember that I said that.”

“Of course I remember.” I gave him a squeeze. The trees around us rustled. Off in the distance I heard a child’s excited chatter. “How could I forget that my favorite person in the entire world said something so awful about himself?”

“I’m your favorite person?” Robin asked, voice tiny and sweet.

“Of course you are,” I said honestly. “You’re my Robin.”

“Oh,” Robin said, warmth flooding his voice. He wriggled, grinning up at me, the lost look in his eyes gone. “You’re my favorite person too.”

“Don’t lie,” I teased.

“I’m not lying!” Robin replied, aghast.

“You’d pick Mads Mikkelsen over me every day.”

It was a joke, to make him laugh. To shock the last of the chill from his limbs and the ice from his blood. It somehow worked, because Robin cackled, smacking my chest with a happy jerk.

---