Page 69 of Taming Georgia

I jolt awake. My entire body stands on edge. I blink, adjusting to the darkness around me. My heart still races from the nightmare I just escaped from. It takes me a moment to remember where I am.

“Wyatt’s,” I whisper to myself, exhaling a relieved breath. I sit up and lean against the wooden headboard. My fingers grasp on to the soft linens beneath me and release as my ragged breaths calm.

I hate dreams like the one I just woke from, the kinds that are so real and so scary that I’m terrified they’ll pull me under so far that I won’t be able to wake up.

You’re good,I tell myself.You’re good.

The moonlight shines in through the window falling onto Wyatt’s bare back. I study him as he sleeps so peacefully, the ridges of his back muscles showcased in the soft glow. He breathes softly, and I can’t get over how incredibly beautiful he is. It’s a regular thought of mine. I’m always catching myself admiring him, stealing glances while he works, studying the way he cares for others, and now, apparently watching him sleep.

Sometimes, I feel like the seventeen-year-old girl who could barely breathe in his presence while feeling giddy that the cute boy was talking to me.

We’re doing so much more than talking now.

My stare lingers over the thin sheet covering his ass, and I know very well what it’s hiding. Memories of earlier flash through my mind, and I shiver. We’re so compatible, Wyatt and me. Our bodies fit together so incredibly that I want him all the time. I’ve never experienced this type of connection with anyone else in my life. I crave Wyatt when he’s not near.

We’re nothing alike, truthfully, but I think that’s why we work so well. Separate, we’re good, but together, we’re great. We fit like two imperfect puzzle pieces clicking together to make the most stunning picture.

He’s quiet, whereas I’m loud. He’s reserved, and I’m forward. He loves softly, and I love out loud. He internalizes his fears and pain, whereas I have to release them, crying more often than I should.

As much as we’re different, we’re the same, cut from the same cloth. We’re both sensitive and caring to the point of heartbreak. We look at the world as something we can make better. We see a problem and attempt to fix it. We give everything to those we love. We have opposing deliveries, but the intent is the same.

I watch him as an overwhelming feeling of love fills me. I think I love him. We’ve only been dating a couple of weeks, but I think I loved him before all of this—if that’s possible. I thought I’d been in love before, but I know now that I hadn’t. I adored traits of my boyfriends of the past, whether it be their love of travel, human rights efforts, or the adventure they brought me. But I didn’t love any of them completely, as an entire package. I chose what to see in them that I liked, and I ignored the rest.

That’s not the case now. I see Wyatt—the beautiful and the broken—and I love all of him.

I cherish him.

I want him.

Every piece of him. So desperately, it terrifies me.

“Hey.” Wyatt’s voice, heavy with sleep, breaks my thoughts. His hand reaches out for mine.

“Hi.”

“Are you okay?”

I nod. “Yeah, just a bad dream.”

“Come here,” he beckons softly, opening the sheet in front of him.

I slide down, turn toward the window, and scoot my body back into his. He adjusts until his body perfectly melds with mine. His skin is warm and smooth against mine. I push back into him a little more. He covers us with the blanket and wraps his strong arm around me, tightly holding me to him.

I sigh as he gently kisses my bare shoulder before laying his head back down. He holds me close. I feel so protected, cherished, and warm. Lying in Wyatt’s arms is like heaven—completely perfect. My eyes close, and my lips turn up. I absorb his breaths as his chest rises and falls against my back.

Sleeping here with Wyatt brings me such a sense of comfort and security. I drift off to sleep, thinking of his kind heart, beautiful blue eyes, and strong hold. Right before slumber pulls me under, another sensation surfaces. In the space between heartbeats, the unsettling feeling of being trapped emerges, but it’s brief, and then the next beat of my heart comes, and it’s gone before I can truly decide if I felt it at all.

18

“The way everything has played out makes me think that there’s another power at play. As much as I don’t believe in it, fate keeps coming to mind.”

—Wyatt Gates

Georgia’s arms drape around my neck. “I’m going to go get the room ready for the adoption interviews.”

“Okay.”

We’re alone in the office—well, besides a snoring Cooper and too many slumbering cats. I’m still not a fan of public displays of affection, especially here. So, we’ve tried to keep our new relationship on the down-low. Though we’re not very good at it. I should say, Georgia isn’t very good at it. She’s such a loving person by nature. I, on the other hand, have practiced keeping others away for my entire life. She’s one person I’m no longer capable of keeping at arm’s length.

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