Page 97 of Always Yours

She shrugs. “That’s what we were taught, but I never truly believed it.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” I tell her, and she grins.

“For me, a man and a woman should be equal, and each should take care of the other, emotionally and physically. But when I would say that to my mother or the other elder women, they’d beat me or tell me to keep my mouth shut so I didn’t end up in hell for my insubordination to not only the Grandmaster, but to God himself.”

“There was no fucking God in that place.”

She shakes her head at that. “You have no clue. They’d hang all these wooden signs around the compound with scriptures from the Bible, but they always chose the ones that would draw people in. It wasn’t until you were in the group that you really learned the Grandmaster’s teachings and what it meant for any woman who was tricked into that place.”

“How’d you convince yourself to get away?”

She shrugs. “I refused to be forced into something I didn’t want. I didn’t want to be raped by the Grandmaster or anyone else. I wanted my first time to be with someone who cared for me, who saw me as more than just an object. I wanted what I read, that all-consuming love, where my worth would be recognized. That unconditional love that ignores I have demons that rear their ugly heads, but that reminds me it doesn’t matter. That I’m enough, just me.”

Yup, all that. All fucking that. Damn it, I’m in awe of this woman. I let go of my controller and cup her face in my hands. “Austen, do you realize how strong and incredible you are?”

Her eyes well up, and I swear I’m drowning in every single emotion known to man. “I do,” she whispers. “But sometimes fear gets me.”

“It gets everyone,” I say, voice heavy with empathy. “But I need you to know how blown away I am by you and seriously impressed. You are enough, Janie. Truly enough. You’re what perfection is.”

“I’m hardly perfect.”

“For me, you are,” I whisper, and her eyes fall shut. She slowly turns her head in my hand, kissing my palm.

“You know I’ve never told anyone any of this,” she whispers before looking over at me, her eyes hooded and gorgeous. “Peepaw only knows some of it, but other than my sisters and my therapist, you’re the only one.”

I swallow hard, knowing what that means. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“You make it easy for me to,” she says, turning her head to kiss my palm again. “I feel the safest with you.”

Fuck, my heart skips a beat and stops dead in my chest. “You do?” A tear runs down her cheek, and I catch it, wiping it away. “Don’t cry over them,” I urge her. “You left them, Janie. You made the best choice of your life, and I couldn’t be prouder of you. Of this goddess that I’ve somehow convinced to read a book on me.”

Her lips part as laughter leaves them, the pain leaving her sweet eyes somewhat. “Did you convince me, or did I just lie down on you?”

I grin, running my thumb along her lips. “It may have been the latter.”

“It was,” she reminds me, leaning into my hand. “But I don’t know if that was the best choice of my life.”

“How can you not be sure?” I ask in disbelief.

“Not when I also made the choice to ask you to kiss me,” she reminds me. “And that led to this.”

“Austen, I’m not comparable to leaving a cult,” I assert, but she doesn’t agree.

“I disagree,” she says, her eyes burning into mine. “Because I didn’t really start living until I met you.”

“Austen—”

“Really. Dimitri, yeah, I came here to prove I could do it, be on my own, but I know what I would have done. I would have sat in this apartment and read all the time. I wouldn’t have spoken to anyone at the rink or tried to get to know anyone. I would have faded away, falling into a rhythm that didn’t scare me. You jacked that all up.”

Laughter bubbles from me.

“And now I’m living, and I’m just so fucking happy.”

God, my heart is going to come out of my chest. I pick up her book, putting it on the table before I take her by her underarms and pull her up my body with ease until her lips are at mine. I search her eyes, and the words are right there. Three words my heart is begging for me to say.

“I can’t even begin to describe how the word fuck on your lips makes me harder than a rock.”

Her lips twitch. “I’m disappointed. As a hockey player, you should say harder than a frozen puck,” she teases, and my heart sings for her.

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