Page 41 of Breaking Conviction
Can I really wait that long?
She watched Wes as he typed on the computer. His over six-foot frame had to be at least an inch higher than Dean’s, and Wes definitely towered over her five foot two, even sitting down. His glasses accentuated the faint laugh lines on the edges of his eyes, and although his jawline was sharp, his lips were always ready for a smile. So different than Dean’s perpetually stone-faced demeanor.
“What’re you thinking about over there?”
The low rumble of his voice caught her off guard and she realized he was eyeing her from his periphery. Her cheeks heated, but before she turned away or blurted out something snarky to save face, she asked him what she’d been dying to know for two months.
“What did you mean about the oxygen thing?”
His eyes were back on the hieroglyphics on his screen, but his brow furrowed at her question. “Not sure what you mean, Naomi. You might have to fill me in.”
“You said, ‘trust your instincts and make sure to put your oxygen mask on first.’”
Wes hit the ENTER on his keyboard before turning to her. He crossed his arms while leaning back like he owned the place. Hell, he could, for all she knew. The less she knew about him, the better. Keeping that buffer with Wes prevented the temptation to get to know him in other ways.
“Well.” His eyes were soothing as they locked onto hers, like a trap in a cage she didn’t want to break free from. “The first one I think is obvious.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I got the ‘trust your instincts’ part. I’ve been tryin’ to listen to my intuition more lately.”
Wes’s small smile widened. “I remember you saying that last time we were here actually, when you pointed out we needed to look into those other women with hardly any details on their future.”
He took off his glasses again before massaging his eyes, and she wondered if looking at the screens made them tired, or if always facing the world head-on did it. Probably both.
“As for the oxygen mask thing... I don’t know who my aunt learned it from, but it’s something she used to tell my mom. ‘Put your oxygen mask on first, Janet.’ I heard that so much it kind of became ingrained in me I guess.”
“But… what does it mean?”
“Have you ever been on a plane?”
Naomi nodded at the change in subject. “Yeah, once when I was younger and we visited some family up north.”
“Well, you know how on flights they instruct you to put your oxygen mask on when shit hits the fan?” Naomi nodded. “One of the things they say is if you have a child next to you, put your oxygen mask on first before you help the child.”
Naomi wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I’ve never really liked that idea. Whoever made it up sure ain’t a mother. I can’t imagine makin’ that kind of choice. If it ever came down to me or Thea, it’s T all the way, hands down.”
Wes dipped his forehead toward her. “Fair, but consider this. If something happens out of your control and you don’t take care of yourself first, you might not be able to take care of Thea, either. If you want to be there for Thea, you’ve got to make yourself a priority and everything else will fall into place.”
She frowned, not really sure what to make of that, unable to deny the logic, but not wanting to admit it. Her go-to defense mechanism reared its ugly, obstinate head, although she tried her best to tamp down her attitude.
“Why’d you tell me that? We hadn’t even been in the same room for half an hour, but you’d already figured I’d need to hear it? How come?”
With a heavy look on his face, his eyes bored into her with compassion and… regret?
“Because I think you might be like my mom was, always putting us first, a lot of times at her expense. She thought putting herself above her children was selfish.” Wes released a long exhale before bringing his rolling chair closer to her. His tattooed hands grabbed hers before resting his elbows on his dark-jeaned knees. For once, the immediate shock of fear that Dean would find out didn’t slice through her, and she let herself be drawn into his eyes. Those icy blues that saw everything so clearly. “But more than once, Naomi, I’ve wished she’d realized that thinking about yourself isn’t selfish and that self-preservation is self-love.” He tugged her hands. “I-I guess that even though I didn’t know you at the time, I needed you to know at least that.”
His eyes met hers with a sincerity that literally drew her in, and she suddenly realized how close they were. Their chairs were nearly touching and her hands were cradled in his strong grip while her knees were locked between his. She’d watched every emotion written all over his face as he’d spoken to her: worry, hurt, frustration… desire. Each one drew her in like a moth to a flame and for once in her life, she wanted to take a risk.
Only… this man didn’t feel like a risk. With every word, he felt more and more like a reward for all the screwed-up shit that had rained down on her life since she was fourteen. She deserved to do this one thing for her, just once.
“It’s not selfish to think about yourself.”
He closed his eyes before swallowing and tried to pull back. “I’m sorry, Naomi, I—”
Naomi tugged his hands to her chest, pulling him in, and crashed her lips onto his.
Chapter Sixteen
Naomi immediately felt Wes’s body tense, and he stayed stock-still for an awful second, during which her mind went haywire. Maybe he didn’t think of her that way. Maybe it was all her wishful thinking. Or maybe he was just as afraid as she was that the moment would disappear.
