Page 69 of Afraid to Hope

He pushed the soft fabric of her pants up to above her knees, massaging her calves, encouraging her to drape her legs across his thighs. “You feel so good. Silky. Soft.” He stopped and searched her eyes.

“It happened in high school. My senior year,” he said quietly, slouching down and resting his head on the top of the chaise, looking at the stars and blinking a few times before taking a deep breath.

Natasha laced her fingers through his and squeezed gently.

He continued. “It was graduation night.”

Natasha covered his hand with her other one.

“You know. We were just a group of bored, small-town kids, mostly kids of farmers. There wasn’t much that scared us. We’d seen our share of scrapes, close calls, and accidents. For the most part, everyone came out of them okay. Maybe a broken leg or stitches.

“That night, we were rowdier than usual. Hell, we had just graduated. Most of us were going to college, many of us were first generation. I had a full ride to college to play tight end.” He rubbed fiercely at his cheeks. “We’d all known each other since we were babies. We always had each other’s backs, even if we’d just had a fight. We stuck together.

“Alex was my best friend. His older brother, Booth, got us some whisky and we passed it around before the graduation ceremony. Kept it among our group, under our robes. Our high school was consolidated, meaning other communities in the county sent their kids there. I remember my parents frowning at me during my speech, so I must have had more than a buzz.”

“You were valedictorian?”

“Naw. I was elected by my class to give a speech.”

“Popular.”

Bane tipped his head to smile at her. “Um, yeah.” He looked back up at the sky. “Dad asked me afterward why I spoke so deliberately. I couldn’t tell him. It would have added to his disappointment, and I couldn’t bear more. You see, I was leaving the farm to go to college and play football. Dad wanted me to stay and take over the farm, the family business. I couldn’t commit to that. Hell, I was only eighteen and I had another option.

“All of us walked into town after graduation with our caps and gowns on, acting like wild fools. Alex’s brother met us with more whisky. He was such a dick. I never liked him. I was as tall as Booth, but he was skinnier. He always challenged me, ever since I flattened his ass in fifth grade for picking on Alex. Fucker.

“Anyway… We decided, me and my friends, about a dozen of us, that we’d climb the water tower in town. We left our caps and gowns in a pile by one of the supports and went for it. The tower took some time to climb. The bottle was passed around once we got to the top, but most of us had slowed or stopped. I didn’t drink any more, but Alex and Ryan kept going. The tower was higher than we realized. We still had to get back down to the ground. We hung out there for a while, sitting on the open walkway, leaning against the metal railing. Talking. Laughing. Looking over our town, bigger than life. Being stupid.”

“Being boys,” Natasha commented.

“Alex chugged the whisky with Ryan. Responsibility was starting to nag at me, so I told them to stop, at least slow down. All of us were trying to get them to stop. They were fucked up and started to wrestle for the last drops. They stood. Pushed each other around.” Bane rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. “Fuck. The tower had been built over a hundred years earlier. The bottle slipped and they both went for it. The railing was low. Fuck.”

Bane was silent but breathed hard.

Natasha relaxed her grip, realizing she held his hand too tightly. “Bane?”

He whipped around and pulled her to him tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. His body trembled and his heart raced, his words moist and muffled against her neck. “I still see them. Going over. Both of them.”

She felt him swallow. Felt his anguish.

“I could have stopped them,” he confessed.

Natasha kneaded the corded muscles through his damp shirt, not knowing what to say, only wanting to comfort him, to help him banish his monster. Now that he had opened up to her, she wanted to talk more. She wanted more of everything with Bane.

“Morning, beauty,” Bane purred in Natasha’s ear. “The sun’s rising and I suspect our host and the cook won’t appreciate that we spent the night outside wrapped in each other’s arms, in full view of their guests.”

Natasha framed the sides of his head with her hands and moved it above hers, smiling softly, fascinated by the play of soft orange, pink, and yellow on his scruffy face. She searched his eyes to see how he was feeling. They looked clear. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby. Granted, I may be a little stiff from being in mostly one position all night.” He rested his forehead against hers, then kissed her deeply. “Someone was incredibly comforting last night. Thank you, sweetheart.” Bane rose and took her hand, pulling her to standing. “Come on,” he said, swooping up the empty wineglass and beer bottle. “We have enough time before breakfast.”

“To?”

“To clean up. Work out the kinks. You’ve got to be a little stiff too. I’m lean, but I weigh 220, give or take. That’s a lot of extra weight on your slender bones for the evening, despite the nice cushions on the chaise.”

“I’m good.” And she was.

Natasha missed Bane’s heat and how they had fit together all night. At one point she had woken; he slept deeply on his side against hers, his leg and arm flung over her, his face resting in the crook of her neck. Even in sleep he made her feel cherished and protected. In a very short time, he had broken down Natasha’s emotional fortress and situated himself within her heart. The stars above her were brighter than before they had fallen asleep. Among the glittering diamond dust was a star directly overhead, dazzling like a beacon of hope to her damaged heart. Natasha slowly blinked her filling eyes; the tears slid down her temples. She had fallen in love with him. As if Bane had heard her silent admission, his hand grasped her hip and drew her under him. He burrowed into Natasha farther, kissed her neck and sighed. Content and peaceful, she had fallen back asleep. Natasha felt that peace now.

They walked hand in hand to the guesthouse and left the glass and bottle on a tray outside the kitchen door. After a shower and breakfast, Natasha and Bane checked out of the guesthouse with a picnic lunch, courtesy of the cook. They had a day’s drive ahead of them, which included at least two stops—the abandoned cheese farm outside Imouzzer du Kandar where the key had been found and the photos had been taken and Azrou to have lunch.

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