My hand stills again, but this time he puts his hand on top of mine and then rotates his arm and starts moving my fingers for me, finding new flowers. New patches of skin.
“She was my first actual relationship.” I flick my gaze to his, then drop it again. “Before her, I only ever had hookups, nothing serious. I didn’t think I had space for more than that.”
Before her, it was only men.
Not because I prefer them or because I’m not attracted to women. It just never happened that way, and after her, I don’t know if it ever could again. She didn’t just break my trust, she rewired something in me. She made it hard to separate want from danger. That part of me feels bruised and almost raw, like touching it might split me open.
I dig my heels into the dirt, grounding myself. “Racing takes everything. Your focus, your time, your headspace.” I look up, meeting his eyes. “You know that.”
He nods. “Every hour. Every beat of your heart. Every breath.”
“She understood that, too, because she was a racer. Shegotit. Or at least, she talked like she understood what it meant to chase something so hard it hurts.”
I take a deep inhale, exhaling it slowly, tracing another flower. His hand goes with me, still lightly resting on top of mine. “It felt perfect, and I easily fell for her.”
Mini Crews doesn’t say anything, but he’s completely tuned into me. Listening.Reallylistening.
“I’d never been in love before, but I thought it was real with her. We kissed. Made out a few times, but that was it. I never pushed for more.” My throat works. “We were only together for a few weeks. I respected her, trusted her. Hell, I thought she was the one, and then she said I forced myself on her.”
His fingers tighten on mine, but he doesn’t move away. I knew he didn’t believe the rumors before, but based on the relief from that, some part of me still expected it.
It gives me the courage to continue.
“And just like that, everything was gone. The team. My sponsors. Years of work, sacrifice, gone because of a lie I still don’t understand.” My voice cracks at the edges. “I don’t know why she said it or what she wanted.” I look away in shame, in regret for something I never saw coming, my eyes burning in a way I hate. “I never even slept with her, but the world thinks I raped her.”
The words hang there, ugly and impossible, and I suddenly can’t breathe past the weight of them. Shame curdles low in my stomach, even though IknowI’ve done nothing wrong.
After a few thick, silence-stretched moments, I finally look up, bracing for the pity.
But that’s not what I find.
It’sfury.
Pure,unbridled rage.
His eyes burn like he wants to fight the whole damn world for me, and he’s ready to throw down against everyone on my behalf, fists first, questions later.
I glance down at his small hands curled over mine, knuckles white, trembling, bunched into fists.
Mybaby deer’sfists wouldn’t do much damage.
But fuck if the intent doesn’t count for something.
“Not everyone thinks that,” he says, his voice so quiet I almost miss it. “Idon’t. She never deserved you, even before she spewed that shit.”
I let out a bitter laugh, eyes drifting away. “You think so?”
“No,” he says, sharper now. “Iknowso. She’s a bitch. You deserve someone who’s not out to break you.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “I used to think she was a bitch too. Then I thought… maybe I was wrong. She started acting differently.” I shake my head. “Guess she was just a better liar than I gave her credit for.”
“You weren’t wrong for hoping,” he says quietly. “Just don’t ignore your gut next time.”
I huff a bitter breath. “What next time? It’s not like I’m gonna find someone else who’ll actually let me touch them.”
There’s a beat of silence before we both glance down at our hands.
I didn’t realize how much I’d needed that contact until this moment, how starved I am for it. How safe it feels with him.