Page 48 of Wants and Needs
“Wha-what do you mean?” I can’t help but stutter, nerves getting the best of me. This right here isreallyout of my comfort zone.
“I’m not a tactile person by any means, but with Dirk I used to be. With people Ilove,” he emphasizes. “Those people, I always have to be touching. It can just be holding hands, orhaving an arm around your waist, but yeah, that’s something I’ve only ever done with him, and if he sees me do it with you, then he’ll know it’s true.”
“Okaay,” I say, drawing out the word. I close my eyes for a second and breathe deeply to remind myself of who I truly am. I might be straight, but all my friends aren’t. They’ve never been overly affectionate with me, though. Not because I’m not queer, I know that’s not something they would single me out for, but because I’m well... very British in that sense, I suppose. It’s just not the way I am.
But this act I’m going to put on will not only be of someone who’s attracted to other men, but also of someone completely devoted and protective of Liam.
I already feel protective of him.
Faking the rest shouldn’t be so hard now, should it?
When I open my eyes, I’m faced with the full force of Liam’s bright blue eyes.
I swear they’re almost hypnotizing, but nothing could make me forget what needs to happen now.
“I’ve not held a man’s hand or hugged him for a long time. Not since I was a kid at least, and my Dad would hold my hand when we walked.”
“If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him with as much certainty as I’m able to muster. “It’s just, I’ve never been the hugging sort, you know?”
“I think I do,” he murmurs, still looking right at me. “My dad’s father also never hugs anyone, so maybe it’s a British thing?”
“We definitely wouldn’t be described as being open aboutour affections.” I snort forcibly, trying to bring some levity to the situation so my damn nerves will settle down. But they won’t, and I know I just have to get this over with. “Okay, come on.” I gesture with my hand and stand.
He does too, right in front of me, less than a foot away, facing me.
I take a step and breathe slowly again. He’s barely an inch taller than me, probably the same height if you count my hair which always stands up straight.
I look down and offer him my hand palm up.
“Hold my hand,” I whisper.
Slowly, really slowly, he lifts his left hand and places it palm to palm with mine. The contrast of our skin distracts me for a moment, creamy white against caramel brown, looks like the little figures some baristas paint with foam on coffees. Then I focus on how it feels.
Soft, warm, strong.
Those are all, at the same time, words I’d use to describe Liam, so I guess that makes sense.
I lift my other hand between us and we repeat the process with me looking down. Once I know I’m not going to freak out, I look up to check if he’s freaking out.
He’s looking right at me, breaths even, not even frowning that much.
Those damn eyes, they’re so pretty.
“I think we should hug now,” I whisper, not wanting to spook him. This has to be hard for him too, I realize, and that helps me relax just a tiny bit.
“Okay.” He nods.
“Take your time, and if you want to stop, we stop.” He has to be the one to do this, to touch me and get used to me. I might be a bit frigid, but I don’t really have a problem if someone hugs me for a short amount of time to greet me.
That’s not the case for Liam, so I’m giving him the reins and letting him get used to... me.
Liam barely smiles, but it’s there. Then he’s focusing fully on his hands.
Again, slowly, his hands trail from my palms to my wrists, up my forearms to my biceps and shoulders, then down my back until he stops waist high, both his hands splayed across my back. Every millimeter of movement is precise, and this time he does put me in a type of trance.
He’s hugging me but with us still staring at each other.
