Page 60 of Never Give Up

The panic flows away as he releases his hold slowly.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. “I just—”

“I get it.”

Does he?

But I push those worries away. I ease away from him, dragging air I desperately need into my lungs. The freedom he offered by letting me go was the right thing to do, but I don’t want it. I don’t want him to let go. I want him to hold on and never walk away, but the fear darkens the edges of me and I hate it, I really do.

“I can go if you want,” Brian says softly, voicing my nightmarish thoughts. “Plenty of beds to choose from, even if they’re pint-sized.” He doesn’t mention the fact that we’re in his bed, and I’d be effectively kicking him out because I had an anxiety attack.

“No.” I squeeze my eyes shut, along with my fists in the sheets, pleading for my heart to beat normally. “No. Don’t. I don’t want to be alone. It was just a bad dream. Don’t go.”

His fingers slip down along my shoulders, then up, smoothing the hair from my face as he does so. “Just breathe, Maya.” Then he gently touches my skin so softly that goosebumps rise on every inch of exposed skin.

A small smile comes to my mouth at the concern lacing his voice. Like this, in the dark, I can pretend everything’s perfect. Like this, I can pretend nothing bad happened to destroy me. I can let myself love him the way I want to.

I can do all those things, but pretending doesn’t help my reality. And until I face it, there’s no future for us.

“I know,” I admit to the darkness, to him, “that I’m lucky. People have so much worse happen to them. But it doesn’t stop the bad dreams or the fear that just swallows everything about me if I can’t hold it back. It’s exhausting. I don’t need to be taken care of, but at the same time I feel like I’m using it as a crutch. How am I supposed to move on when every single time I leave work, I’m escorted by one of the deputies. I don’t want to be this person. The one whoneedsso much.”

I pause and the sound of Brian’s breathing, the gentle stroke of his fingers soothes me.

“I just want to feel whole again.”

“You might not feel that way, but I think you are.” He continues that touch and my eyes sting with unshed tears. “I think you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met in my entire life and there’s nothing that will stand in your way if you don’t want it to. But I also know that it’s not my place to tell you what you’re feeling.” He pauses and then coughs like he’s trying to clear his throat. “I’m here. I’m here, and I’ll do anything you need me to so that I can help you feel whole again. You say the word and it’s yours.”

I want—I don’t know what I want. Hell, I can barely figure out what I need, let alone what I want. But him, here, touching me brings me back to the surface. His voice is tearing down the walls around my heart and reminding me that I’m not alone. That it’s okay for me to need to be touched. To crave connection. To ache for the bond I can feel growing between me and the man at my side.

There are no lines here. Nothing to keep us apart. Nothing reminding me or warning me away from giving him my heart.

I want to be touched. I want to feel. Even more than that, I want to be touched without fear or disgust or the worry that he’s only doing it because he’s trying to be nice or because I’m forcing him to or begging for affection.

With Brian, here in the dark, I can admit the truth. I can admit… everything.

I turn and touch him, my hand splayed on his chest and the sharp thump of my heart soothed by our connection.

“Maya…”

I lift my head and silence him with a kiss. One that starts out patient and questioning, a slight pressure of our lips touching, and nothing more.

Until I press my tongue to his bottom lip, taking control and showing him what I want from him. What Ineedfrom him.

This is the darkness.

The night.

Full of terror and nightmares.

Monsters, real ones, exist and can’t be forced away.

But the ones that nip at me now, destroying my confidence, creating a tremor in my very bones… they can be banished by his touch. By his kiss.

By the same passion that flows between us like the tide rising and falling in the ocean.

After an eternity of silence, Brian moves, sliding his arms around me and pulling me in against the hard heat of him and I sigh into the kiss and willingly hand control over to him.

My hands drift from his chest down until I run my fingers along the waistband of his pants, slipping under the barrier separating our skin from touching. His sharp inhale, followed by the way his stomach clenches as my fingers slip around his already hard length, tell me that he wants this just as much as I do.

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