Page 89 of Don't Make Me Beg
The shadow from the cloud cools my scalding skin, followed by a much-appreciated gentle breeze. I take a moment to lift my hair off my neck, letting the wind cool my skin.
Dr. Drizzle didn’t predict rain today, but it’s starting to look like it. Which means I need to hurry.
I make my way down the ladder and refill my paint cup. Hopefully, I can at least finish this section before the rain forces me to call it quits for the day.
With this much rain in the forecast already this summer, I’m not sure how I’m going to get this mural finished in time. All I know is I’ve got to make the most of every clear day and try to make up as much progress as possible while I can.
As stressful as it may seem, having something as uncontrollable as the weather to deal with, it’s still nothing compared to the stress I’m used to feeling with school and work.Maybe it’s all the sun getting to my head, or maybe Luka’s carefree attitude is starting to wear off on me, but I find myself knowing everything will work out. I’m not sure how exactly, but I know somehow we’ll find a way…
That’s the thing about Luka, he makes me feel like anything is possible, even when the circumstances don’t feel like it. But more than that, he makes me feel like even if it isn’t, it’ll still be okay… Life will go on just as it always does.
It’s like the more I’m around him, the calmer my nervous system feels. Like he’s rewiring me from a lifetime of being chronically panicked and anxious. When I’m with him, I feel like I can let my guard down and finally breathe.
Even when he’s angry with me, I still feel regulated.
I bite my lip as I think back to the other night, the shocked look on his face when he realized I was a virgin, and the way his shock shifted to hurt. Not because he felt betrayed or taken advantage of, but because he was worried that he’d hurt me.
I was so caught up in my own head and what I wanted, I didn’t realize how selfish I was being by not telling him. I didn’t consider his feelings whatsoever…
It’s not that I didn’t want to consider his feelings, I was just too caught up in the moment, all my judgment blinded by white hot desire. How surprised I was to not only not be afraid of his anger but how turned on I was by being the object of his possessiveness… Nobody’s ever fought for me like that. Not because I was an object to be ruined, but because he couldn’t stand the thought of another man putting his hands on what he so proudly deemed as his.
And he didn’t even know that I was a virgin.
I’ve never felt so… desired in my life. No one has ever made me feel like I’m the prize to be won, not just my virginity… but me.
Maybe that’s toxic. But I don’t really care.
I used to think the opposite of love was hatred. But now I realize it’s apathy. Because at least being hated means they’re thinking about you.
I’ve spent my whole life bending over backward, trying to convince my parents—and later Jimmy—that I was worthy of love. And not once have they ever made me feel anything close to the way I feel when Luka looks at me.
To be hated by Luka feels like being worshipped, like I’m the sun he revolves around. The gravity that keeps his feet anchored in reality. He sees me. Really sees me. When no one else has even given me a second look.
Even though he wants me to believe it, he’s not careless with me. It’s like he knows I need so much more than gentle. He recognizes my darkness because it matches his own.
It’s like we’re just two halves of a broken spirit, finally finding our missing counterpart… even though it was under our noses all along.
So even though it was selfish of me, there was nothing I wanted more than to be claimed by Luka. I wanted him to take me with the same fervor and intensity. I wanted him just as he was, without holding anything back… Even if I knew it was going to be painful.
I think part of me was hoping it would be, if only for it to feel that much stronger. The mix of pain and pleasure—though mostly pain—was almost too much to take.
And somehow, it was still better than I could’ve imagined.
Despite the warning bells blaring in my head, telling me this is a terrible idea—all I want is to do it again.
As if Mother Nature personally felt the need to cool me down, I feel the first fat raindrop hit my cheek, followed by another on my arm.
I tilt my face up, welcoming the cool shower. Looks like I’m wrapping the day up early, once again.
I’m almost finished packing up my supplies when I hear the familiar hum of Luka’s motorcycle purring behind me.
I don’t even bother asking him how he knew it was going to rain, because just like always, he’s right on time.
“That smells amazing,” I say as I make my way into the kitchen, my mouth already watering from the delicious aroma. “What are you making?”
“Lemon garlic chicken and gnocchi with broccolini,” he says without looking up from the pan.
Luka’s standing over the stove as several pots and pans bubble and simmer around him.
