Page 159 of Piece Us Together

I want to ask what will happen if Maison is never ready, but I’m too afraid of the answer.

“Do you like teaching history?”

If the clear shift in topic bothers him, he doesn’t show it. “I love it. Even the more basic classes. You have no idea how many students never got important information about conflicts or movements because of the bias of their textbooks. I think that’s important, you know? How will we keep from repeating history if we don’t know it.” He laughs, the sound surprisingly self-conscious. “Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.”

I grin, falling just a little more in love after seeing this side of him. “I’d come to listen to you every day.”

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow. “What about you? You give me a talk.”

“About what?”

“What do you want to do, Nolan? What do you want from your future, outside of Maison and me?”

It’s a startlingly sudden shift in tone. Maybe that’s why I find myself pouring out the truth so easily. “I want to learn how to cook. To really cook. I don’t think I need a degree or anything, like professional chefs, but some classes, maybe?”

He lights up. “I bet there are certificates you can go for, if you’d rather not get the degree. Or even just a class or two. What do you want to do with the knowledge? I know the program offers some business management and things like that, too.”

“How do you even know that?” I ask, trying to avoid answering his question.

“One of my good friends graduated from the program, actually. He just recently opened his own restaurant.”

“I don’t want that,” I admit. “I don’t want to be, like, a professional.”

He nods, but I can see in his eyes that he’s slightly confused. I already know what he’s going to ask before he asks it. “Then what do you want?”

I have to look away from him before I can even really think about it. The truth is, I could probably learn what I need to online or by watching videos. I have a lot of the basic techniques down, but I know there are plenty of resources for the advanced stuff too. There’s just something about Carter being at college and making friends and loving the experience that has me wanting to try it out. I also think it’d make me feel better about what and how I cook, since I’m still serving my food to other people even if they don’t pay for it.

Back at the safehouse, I considered staying there permanently. I thought maybe I could cook for other people that show up down the road. Then everyone wanted to leave and I wanted to be with them more than I wanted that, so I left.

“You don’t have to know,” Hunter says softly when I don’t answer. “They won’t make you justify yourself when you sign up for classes. Take one or two. See if you like it. Go from there.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. Just think about it. This isn’t me trying to push you to do it or anything, but I see it as one of my jobs as your partner and your dom to help you chase your goals and be happy and fulfilled in all areas of your life.” He strokes my cheek, smiling almost to himself. “No matter how long it takes. I just can’t wait to be a part of it.”

Something flickers in his eyes. I know what it is. The shape of it, at least. A few inches over six feet and eyes like a storm.

“He’ll let you be a part of his, too,” I promise without the right to. “It’ll just take some time.”

“Is it—” He sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Does he not trust me, yet? Should I work with him on building that up some more?”

“No. No, that’s not it at all. He trusts you. Hedoes. It’s just—it’shim. It’s a wall. I don’t know what it’s going to take for him to break it.”

There’s so much pain in his eyes when he says, “He broke it for you.”

“No, Hunter. He didn’t. I just happened to find him there, behind it. I—” I pause, considering my words carefully. He needs to understand how big this is, how deep the trauma reaches, but I don’t know how to do that without giving things away that aren’t mine to give. “Hunter, I—” I grit my teeth, shaking my head. My hands are shaking. I shift purposefully, aggravating the marks on my ass, making the metal cage jump just a touch against my thigh as it’s jostled.

Hunter turns me until I’m straddling him, my caged cock nestled against his stomach. His hands circle my hips before slipping beneath the waistband of my sweatpants to glide along my ass cheeks. I hiss at the near-electric pain of his fingernails suddenly dragging across the welts. I try to jolt forward, to escape the hurt, but his hands squeeze until I’m frozen in place.

“You don’t have to tell me, if it’s going to upset you,” he murmurs, his grip starting to gently pulse. “Be here with me, okay? I want you here. The secrets and confessions can wait. With Maison gone, all this worry…let’s just be here, okay? The rest can wait.”

“I think we should watch that documentary, the one you’ve been watching,” I decide. “How far into it are you? Would you be able to fill me in?”

He nearly laughs. “Maybe a different one. I’m five episodes in and there’s quite a lot to cover. Do you want a history one or some other kind? Or a movie or TV show instead?”

“Something that will make me think,” I say. “Something distracting. You pick.”

That’s how we end up watching a show about the ancient pyramids, of all things. It works though.

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