Page 52 of Win You Over
I look out at the sea and then back at him.
“We’d go to a thrift store and look for old records or vintage clothing. Then eat ice cream.” I shrug. “When I say it out loud, it all sounds a little ridiculous.”
Remington kisses my thigh, where he left the imprint of his teeth earlier.
“Sounds pretty perfect to me.”
We stay like that for a while, joking about the lies Remington’s sister told him as a child and talking about the things we like and don’t like. I tell him about the record player I found and how I’m going to fix it up, and he tells me about a bookshop he once visited in Paris, all while the sun shines down on us and waves lap at the sides of the yacht.
His one hand plays with the hem of my t-shirt, while the other draws patterns along the exposed strip of skin. His touch is electric, sparks igniting in my blood. I never realised how starved of affection I was until Remington barged into my life. I never realised how gentle touches could be when my only real experience had been torture.
“Can you take this off?” Remington asks, his lips following the trail his fingers were mapping on my skin. He tugs at the bottom of my t-shirt.
My breath gets caught in my throat and I shake my head. I can’t let him see me, not the parts that I keep hidden from everyone, including myself.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” he says, then kisses my stomach over my tee before laying his head back on my thigh.
As the yacht bobs on the sea, the air around us still, I admit to myself that if I want this thing between us to be real – which I do – maybe he needs to see me, really see me. Maybe I need to give him the chance to walk away now, before things get serious. Because he will walk away. No one could look at me and still want to be with me. I can’t even look at myself.
Tipping my head up, I lock my eyes on the cloudless sky as I drag my t-shirt up.
I sense Remington’s body move, his head leaving my lap. Not that I can blame him. Now he knows that I’m damaged beneath my clothing. For a second back on that island, I got to be the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. It felt unreal, amazing, words I cling to as they melt into the ether. Tears form at the corners of my eyes. It’s better he finds out now. As much as it hurts, I know it’s for the best.
“Holden. Look at me.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head, shame, disgust and fear pulsing through me.
“Holden. Baby, please.” His voice is gentle with not an ounce of the disgust I expected.
The sudden warmth and strong arms engulfing me take me by surprise and the tears I was holding back fall helplessly down my cheeks.
“I get if you don’t want…”
His hands find my cheeks before I can finish talking, his blue eyes fierce and blazing.
“You think I don’t want you anymore? Because of your scars?” Remington shakes his head, messy blond hair falling across his forehead. “Jesus, Holden.”
He pushes me down, my back hitting the deck with a thud, then rests his head on my heart, his hand splayed over my stomach. I’m grateful for the quiet that falls between us, even if I don’t know what happens next. Maybe I can pretend everything is as it was an hour ago.
It’s Remington who breaks the silence, his words cutting through my wishful thinking. “We’re nearly back at the marina. When we get back to the villa, we’ll talk about this. But make no mistake, Hold, this changesnothing.”
My phone buzzes with a message as soon as we reach the port. Remington is thanking Daniel, while I open it and read the message.
Theo:Guess who stopped by the cafe again today?
Me:What did he want?
I have no idea what’s going on with Finn – there’s something unnerving about him stopping by Theo’s place of work twice in such a short space of time.
Theo:He asked if I had heard from you. If I knew when you would be back. I told him to fuck off again.
I snort. Of course, that’s what Theo would do.
Me:Thanks, Theo. I guess he’s missing Remi.
Dots appear on the screen before they stop and then start again.
Theo:Maybe. Just gives me a bad feeling for some reason.
