Page 122 of Deliverance

My mind drifts back to the image of her standing in front of me moments ago, cheeks pink and hair mussed. It seems as if I’m trapped in this memory for the longest time, replaying every little detail. And it’s pure torture.

Was I wrong to let her go?

The question spins in my head, round and round. This is perhaps the first time in my entire life I’ve been terrified to screw up with a woman.

A soft knock on my door makes my stomach curl. At first, I think I imagined it, but it comes again. A little louder this time.

“Yeah?” My gaze darts across the room.

“Can I come in?” Drew’s voice is unsteady.

“Yes.”

A surge of adrenaline has my heart pounding. Somewhere there, beneath the surface, the animal starts to claw its way out. I can feel it scratching, I can feel its power bursting through me at the seams. It’s been hidden away for far too long and it doesn’t want to be contained anymore.

“I changed my mind.” A whisper carries over to me when Drew cracks the door open.

The shades are down and the darkness in the room is nearly absolute. All I see is a shapeless form moving toward my bed. Seconds later, I feel the mattress dip under the small weight of Drew's body and I hear the rustle of her clothes as she slides closer to me.

I don’t dare to breathe.

Her scent hits me hard. Sage. Citrus. Dirty martini.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she says, shifting to lie on her side, both hands tucked under her cheek.

Sensing her gaze on my skin, I turn my head slightly.

My eyes finally begin to get used to the darkness and I drink in the silhouette spread out in front of me on my bed—the seductive curve of her hip, the elegant slope of her shoulder, her mop of messy hair .

“I couldn’t sleep either,” I confess, turning to face her, and mimic her pose. My palm slips beneath my ear.

“I think I may have had one too many drinks.”

“You don’t have to worry about that when you’re with me.”

She sighs. “I know I don’t.” There’s a pause and something swells in the air.

Her eyes stare directly into mine and a shiver rolls down my spine. The bundle of emotions lodged deep in my chest is such a complex thing that I don’t even attempt to separate them.

“I’ve only been with one man,” Drew whispers. “And it wasn’t always the best experience.”

My heart stumbles a beat.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want it or haven’t been thinking about it, but it’s hard for me.” Her voice wobbles. “The intimacy—”

Without waiting for her to finish the thought, I reach for her face and place my fingers over her mouth. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable.”

She grasps my hand and gently pulls it away. “It’s not a matter of whether I’m comfortable or not. I’ll never be comfortable or willing to talk about any of this. That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.”

“Drew…I don’t—”

“It’s not a pretty story,” she cuts me off. “And you’ll hate most of it, but what you’ll probably hate more is me and my decisions, but please…let me tell you anyway. All I ask is that you don’t interrupt.”

A sick feeling swirls through my gut. “Okay.”

The silence that follows next is choking, but I do as I promised. I don’t say a word. My pulse is thrumming against my temples so fast, it’s become one constant buzzing noise.

“I met Rhys when I was a college freshman,” she begins. “That summer, right after I graduated high school, my father died from cardiac arrest. He’d never had any health issues and it was so sudden that we didn’t really believe he was gone at first. Things at home kinda just fell apart.

---