Page 107 of Sweet Escape

We stayed an hour or so at the Fall Festival. She helped at the booth for a little bit, and then Murphy shooed us away, telling us to go enjoy ourselves.

So we strolled along, hand in hand, until by mutual agreement, we left and came back home.

Where we lost ourselves in the physical connection that we so clearly have.

I know we need to talk. Vivian was right when she said I need to hear whatever she has to say. And I do want to hear it.

But I also wanted to feel her in my arms. Watch her writhe underneath me. See her fall apart at my touch.

Our physical connection is just as important as our emotional one, and I can’t complain that that’s the one we both wanted to focus on first.

She slides off my chest and tucks herself into my side. She draws lazy doodles along my abdomen as we sit in the silence for long moments before she finally speaks.

“I left because I was scared.”

Her words are shy. Quiet. Filled with an emotion I’m not accustomed to hearing in her voice.

Fear.

“The things I feel for you are just ... so much bigger than what I’ve ever felt before, and I was scared of what it would do to me when this eventually fizzled out.” Her head tilts up, and she looks me in the eyes.

“Why were you so sure it would fizzle out?”

“Because everything does,” she answers, her words quick. “Nothing lasts forever, right?”

“Of course not, but that seems to be an argument for taking what you want with both hands, not avoiding it altogether.”

Vivian closes her eyes and tucks her face into my neck, and I wrap her up with both arms, knowing she clearly needs it.

“Talk to me. What’s going through that head?”

“That’s the thing,” she whispers, not looking me in the eye. “I’m not used to sharing what’s going on in my head. I don’t ... really let people in.”

“Why not?”

She sighs. “I use my music to share how I feel, as a way to let people see parts of who I am. But I’ve always been afraid that if I let someone really see me—if I share the deepest, darkest parts of me, my fears and hopes and secrets—it’ll be used as a list of reasons why I’m unlovable.”

I push Vivian onto her back and bring a hand to her face, cupping her cheek, my thumb stroking down her jaw.

“You could never be unlovable,” I tell her, my voice stern, wanting her to know how deeply convicted I feel on this very important point. “Ever.”

Her lips tilt up at the sides, and she lifts up to press a gentle kiss to my mouth.

“You might be the first person I’ve ever really shared that with,” she whispers. “And like I said, it’s scary. Because it’s me giving you all the tools to tear me apart if you wanted to.”

I shake my head. “Not in any world could I ever take the things you tell me and use them against you.”

She nods, something like resolve hidden within her gaze.

“I know that. I trust you. I trust you with the parts of me I’ve never shown to anyone before. With the things I’m scared to share.” Vivian pauses, her hand coming up to my face, her eyes roving across it. “I want you toknowme. I want to be known by you. I want this between us to be more than just ...”

She trails off.

“More than just bene-mies?” I ask, grinning at her.

Vivian laughs, and the sound sinks into my skin, healing me in ways I didn’t realize another person could.

My chest is tight, but I speak anyway. “It was never just a fling, you and me. Nothing I’ve ever felt for you has been small enough, or meaningless enough to have ever been a fling.”

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