Page 54 of Eat Your Heart Out
29
Ali
I’d closed myself in his bathroom and gotten in the shower, hoping the water would block out my tears. I never used to cry, and there I was, a fucking mess and acting like a leaky faucet. Telling him was like breaking a vow I’d made to myself. John had known me then, so not talking had made life easy.
I didn’t understand Gerard. I told him I was a murderer, and he said he loved me. He wasn’t an awful person. He couldn’t condone what I’d done, so I didn’t understand.
Eventually, I was strong enough to wrap a towel around myself and face him once again.
Gerard stood near the window as he spoke on his phone. I headed to the closet and grabbed some cotton pants and a blue top.
He hung up his phone and smiled at me. “I talked to my brother while you were in the shower.”
My eyes widened. “Yeah?”
He shrugged. “He’ll get back to me today, but your background check didn’t show anything when we ran it before you stepped on board.”
He hadn’t told me he’d run one.
I swallowed hard though assumed it was normal procedure. “Okay…”
His phone rang. He showed it to me. “That’s the chef.” He answered and said, “We’ll be in the dining room soon.”
My heart beat fast as I said, “About what you said.”
He kissed my forehead. “One second. How do you like your eggs?”
After dressing, I grabbed shoes and tried to get my shoulders to relax. “The same as your omelets from yesterday, I guess, but, Gerard, listen—”
He held his finger up, signaling to wait. “Two veggie omelets.” Then he hung up and took my hands in his. I swayed as he said, “Okay. I’m all yours.”
I was being crazy. I closed my eyes, and heat rose to my face. “I can’t believe I told you everything.”
He rubbed my back. “I’m glad you did.”
I felt safe with him. I cupped his face. “There is something else.”
He tilted his head. “What?”
I hadn’t wanted to tell him. I wished I were stronger. “I’m not ready. I’m not capable of love.”
He squeezed my sides. “I get that you believe that.”
My heart raced. “I’m trying to feel what you said.”
He shrugged. “The heart doesn’t work like that.”
My voice choked up. He was too wonderful. I failed to speak several times then finally said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He kissed my cheek. “I can wait for you.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” I kissed him and wished we could just stay physical.
Steam rushed through me. I ached to be his, but I also knew between kisses that his words and maybe even his soul were part and parcel with his body.
I let out a long sigh, and he stopped.
I needed to get myself on track. I kissed him and wished he understood we would only ever be friends with benefits. It was all I could offer him. The words couldn’t come, though, and instead, I slipped off my shirt and pants. They landed on the floor, and I tugged for him to join me.
I’d glanced at the bed, but the floor was better. I kissed him everywhere, and he did the same. My heart thundered, saying I was his, but I shut out the sound.
He kissed my nipples. My body arched to offer myself to him. For a second, I wondered if his love would change me. As I opened my thighs to give him all of me, he put on a condom.
“I’m making love to you,” he said.
I tensed. This wasn’t just sex, and he wasn’t thinking friends with benefits. When he pushed inside me, my defenses collapsed, and my heart broke wide open. I had no way to stop myself from the flood of emotions. And it all tied together in my orgasm. For better or worse, I was his.
