Page 22 of Shattered Dreams

“I want to believe that, but we have a lot working against us.”

“Too much?” I ask, afraid of his answer.

He rubs his thumb over my cheek. “I don’t know. Before, I would have said no, but now, I don’t know. I want us to work, I really do, but when it comes right down to it, our differences might not let us.”

“Zane and Stella made it.”

Gage smiles and cups my face with his warm, strong hands. “Yeah, they did. Kiss me.”

I swallow. “Have you been with her? That way?”

“No. There’s no one between us. Not Sierra, not my ex-girlfriend, not Ash, not any of the assholes who bought you, not that whack job tonight. It’s just you and me, and if you can’t see that, if you don’t believe it deep down in here—” he says, pressing his hand over my heart— “then we won’t make it, no matter how hard we try. It’s just us, here and now. Believe it, Zarah, and kiss me.”

“I’m dirty.” The words slip out. My hesitation and fear are going going ruin this second chance. He’s offering me a future, and I’m still afraid to take it.

“Baby, if I thought that, I wouldn’t be here.Kiss me.”

I search his eyes, one last time, but there isn’t anything in them but desire and love and maybe just a little fear because if I tell him to go, he’ll have no choice but to do what I ask.

Forking my fingers through his hair, I tentatively press my lips to his, and he tightens his hold on me, opening his mouth. Our tongues tangle and he moans, our teeth gnashing togetheras I desperately ravage him, missing him after these few days apart.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble against his lips. “I’m so sorry for what I did to you. To us.”

“Don’t be. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You were doing what you thought was right. We’ll work it out. I promise.”

He kisses along my jaw, and what that creep did to me flares in my mind. I lean away. “He licked me. He put his hands on me. I don’t want you touching me where he did.”

Letting me go, he stills, waiting for my cue. He’s going to treat me with kid gloves, and for a little while, a very short while, we were past that. We were past him asking for permission to do the smallest thing, and now we’re back to it. I love him for thinking about my needs, but I hate we’re in this position to begin with.

“Let’s take a bath. Do you want to? I need to wash him off me.”

He laughs. “I’m too big for a bathtub, let alone two of us.”

“Maybe a regular tub, but not mine.”

Tugging on his hand, I lead him into my en suite bathroom where I have a huge Jacuzzi hot tub, and his eyes widen. “I like taking baths. My dad installed it when I turned sixteen, for my birthday.”

“That looks great.”

“I’ll run the water and go down to the kitchen and grab us something to drink. My doctor gave me the okay to have a little wine sometimes. Do you want a beer? We have some leftover from the night you and Linc were here.”

“Sounds good, but Zarah—”

“I know we need to talk more, but I need to clean up and change my clothes. He had his hands on me, and I need to wash his touch off my skin.”

I add a cup of bath salts to the hot, running water, the kind that ease your muscles after a long day. I turn around and Gage is standing there, watching me, tension pulling at the corners of his eyes.

“Did he hurt you? Do you need to go to the ER? Do you need to,” he grits his teeth and forces the words out, “call Jerricka and have her talk you through this?”

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I rest my cheek against his chest. The steam is already starting to billow into the air, fogging the mirror above the sinks. “No, he didn’t get that far. He would have, it would only have taken him a few more seconds, but you saved me.”

He blows out a breath and rests his forehead against mine, though he has to lean down to do it. “Okay, but if you need me to drive you anywhere, tell me.”

“You’re here. That’s all I need. I’ll be right back.”

Quickly—I don’t want to miss a single second of being with him—I trot down to the kitchen and pour a couple inches of red wine into a wineglass. I’ve never bathed with a man before, and I don’t want to ask if he’s shared a bath with another woman. He’s had so many more experiences than I have and I need to stop comparing his life experience with my lack of it and enjoy us being together. He’s patient and kind, and has never, ever, exhibited any annoyance or frustration showing me new things—in and out of bed.

I grab a beer out of the fridge and pop the cap off. I know he’ll drink it out of the bottle, and not bothering to find a pilsner glass, I rush upstairs as fast as I can. Not because I think the tub will overflow, but because I want to see for myself Gage isn’t a figment of my imagination.

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