Page 84 of The Perfect Love

I drop to my knees in front of her, cutting off her words, and run my hands up her legs.

“I’m so sorry you had to endure that. No one should ever have to feel like you felt, and if I could take it away for you, I’d give anything to do it. But don’t be hard on yourself for feeling every feeling you needed to after or for how things went tonight. It takes an incredible amount of strength to climb out of the darkness, and it takes time to face even the smallest pieces of your trauma again without shattering. You should be proud of your strength and your grace and the way you’ve risen. I am honored to be the man you share your pain with, and I promise to protect it and you always.”

She cups my cheek and rests her forehead against mine.

“Thank you.”

I wrap one hand around her arm, and we sit like this for a moment, the weight of it all swirling around us.

I don’t blame her for being surprised by my actions or being cautious with her trust and her heart. A guy with no care for anyone but himself stole a part of her and broke the person she used to be. It takes time to recover from that kind of trauma. While I’ve loved the little ways we’ve found that we’re connected, I’d cut this particular string if I could. If it would somehow erase that past for her.

And yet, here she is. Still struggling, but I’ve seen her vibrance—the way her eyes dance with mischief and that joyful smile that sends me to my knees.

“What do you need?” I whisper.

“Hot cocoa. Food. And you. My safe place.”

I brush my lips over hers. “You’ve got it.”

No matter what she asks for, what she needs, I’ll find a way to give it to her. I’d do anything for her. Support her, uplift her, fall to my knees and worship her. That’s what she deserves and more, and I have every intention of giving her everything I can. It might not be that guy’s head on a platter, but if I can help her find him and make sure he pays for what he did, I will. Mostimportantly, I’ll protect her and her beautiful heart with my life, so no one can ever hurt her like that again.

We talked through half of our first episode ofHaven. Chelsea gave me more details that sent my blood pressure skyrocketing. Knowing that it happened in the baseball house—not where I lived, but where I regularly was—made me want to puke.

It also made me discreetly text one of the few guys on the Syracuse team I trust when she went to the bathroom. I didn’t give him any big details, but asked him to poke around and see if any investigations might’ve happened. From what she said, it’s been almost a year since it happened, so I would’ve still been there, and I figure I probably would’ve known if any investigations happened—but if there was a stronger suspect maybe it would’ve been kept quiet. I’d like to think my old coach—asshole that he might’ve been to me after my accident—wouldn’t push aside sexual assault allegations, but I’ve learned people aren’t always who you expect them to be.

Damn straight I’ll be going through my old team photos to find anyone who might match the description she gave.

My anger is still roiling beneath the surface, but I’m keeping it calm for her. She’s had to deal with enough. I can rage about it later to one of my friends. I assume Rae knows. I’m a dumbass for not putting that together. She works at Promise. I just took it as her wanting to empower women, but that’s only a piece of it.

When our second episode ofHavenends, Chelsea switches the TV off and turns to me.

“I want to talk about sex. Sexual stuff. I don’t know. It feels like a massive elephant in the room right now, and I feel better when I can talk things through with you.”

A surprised laugh slips out. “Uh, yeah. Of course. We can talk about anything you want to talk about. But before you say anything, I want you to know I will never push you. You give me whatever you’re comfortable with, and whenever we take those steps, I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you feel comfortable and safe.”

She runs her hand over my cheek. “I know you will because you already do. And that’s part of the reason we’re having this conversation. You’re the only person who has brought out sexual desire—specifically sexual desire with another person—since it happened. I’ve been turned on by book scenes and things like that, and before that, when I was trying to feel comfortable in my body again, I focused on enjoying my body and turning myself on… if that makes sense? But the first time I imagined doing something with another person was the night we met. I felt so free for a moment—”

“And that’s why you were upset and panicky. I’m so sorry. I understand why you wouldn’t have randomly told me that, though. It makes a lot more sense now.”

“I still feel bad about how I handled it.”

“You shouldn’t. You had no idea who I am or anything about me—not the things that mattered. I understand more now why you were adamant that I let you tell me what you’re comfortable with rather than assume and hold back. The last thing I want is to take any autonomy from you.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “I appreciate that. And with where we are now, I have complete trust that you’ll respect my boundaries. That’s why I’m not afraid. Even if you move a little faster, I know you’ll stop the second I ask. That’s what really matters to me.”

“So, where are you at now? Just so I understand. You said getting handsy and grinding might be okay last week. Is that still where your mind—or body—is?”

She throws her head back. “This is the hardest part. Iwantmore. I’ve been starting to really imagine—and maybe touch myself to the thought of—being with you.” Her cheeks go bright red, but she continues. “Not sex. Not yet. But maybe touching each other—or even touching ourselves while laying together. But that would require getting naked, and I don’t even know if I’m comfortable with that yet.” She sighs. “I want to be, but I don’t know how to get there.”

I rub my thumb over her shoulder, thinking.

“What if we took the sex out of getting naked together?” I ask.

Her eyebrows go up. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if you’re considering getting naked as the first step to something sexual happening, what if we just be naked together in a nonsexual way? It can help you build trust that being naked doesn’t have to lead to anything sexual. Then whenever you’re ready for something else, you’ll already feel safe being naked together.”

She climbs onto my lap and gives me a soft, slow kiss. “That is a very sweet suggestion. Should we just become nudists around my apartment?”

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