Page 38 of Notorious

Things I don’t deserve.

My brain’s still messing with me. I rub my wrists, reminding myself that I’m not trapped. I can move. Kurt’s not gonna hurt me.

I tell myself all that, but I start breathing fast and my knees give out. I plop down onto the bed, and to my surprise, a second later, Kurt is crouching in front of me on the floor, his hands on my thighs. Seeing his pretty face helps calm my breathing. Some.

“Look, Johnny,” he says. “I know you’re uncomfortable about staying here with me. I heard you when you said it felt like”—he shrugs—“I don’t know. Like you’re relying on someone else’s benevolence. But that’s not how I see the situation. I mean, yes, I want you to stay so we can get you help. That’s not all there is to it, though. It’s tough to explain how much I’m into you. I really, really fucking like you. I’m attracted to you—you, not the guy I used to watch on my screen. I’m hoping maybe if you get to know me, you’ll like me, too.”

He’s so sweet, and somewhere in my foggy brain, a wave of lightness flows through me at how he makes me feel. “I do. Like you, I mean. And I wanna get to know you, too.”

Kurt’s face brightens. “Excellent.” He stands and claps his hands once. “Are you hungry? You must be hungry—I’m ravenous. And if you tell me where you rented that tux, I can have Wendy, my assistant, return it for you, so that’ll be one less thing for us to worry about.”

I am kinda hungry, given that we hadn’t stopped for lunch.

I follow him back into the kitchen and realize how badly I’ve been taking care of myself when I see his fully stocked refrigerator.

Kurt pulls out bread and sandwich fixings, then puts them together on plates with some chips and apple slices. It kinda makes me feel like I’m in preschool, but I also kinda like him taking care of me. No one’s really done that, even when I was little. Ever since I can remember, I was always trying to take care of my mama.

“What do you want to drink? Seltzer? Coke? Gatorade?”

I clench my fists. “Don’t drink Gatorade.” Absolutely never. “Water’s fine.”

As we eat, Kurt clears his throat. “So, like we talked about, I think you should start therapy. Maybe some medication, if the doctors think that’s a good idea.”

I don’t like the sound of any of that, but I’m not sure there’s another choice. At this point, I’m basically going along with whatever he says. I know when I’m beat.

“While we were driving, I went online and made you a tentative appointment for tomorrow. It’s a therapist who’s highly recommended. Do you want to go?”

I nod, because I know that’s what I’m supposed to do. Then I scold myself, since I was the one who insisted on honesty. So I shake my head, and he gives me a gentle smile.

That smile makes me breathless.

“You know what they say,” he says. “The only way out is through. And I’ll help you through.”

“That sounds like some wisdom to me. Thanks.” I don’t mean thanks for the appointment, but thanks for taking me under his wing.

After we clean up the kitchen and Kurt’s assistant picks up my tux, we go to a nearby western wear store, where Kurt buys me a week’s worth of clothes. The whole nine yards: T-shirts, jeans, boxers, socks, a few flannel shirts, and a jacket. I feel lower than an earthworm letting him spend a bunch of money on me, but I don’t waste energy I haven’t got arguing. I take the receipt and mentally add it to my tab. I’ll pay him back with interest.

I’ll admit I’m glad to have more than one pair of jeans. It’ll be nice to be able to change my clothes. I talked him out of getting me new boots, though. The ones I have’ll serve me fine.

When we get back, it’s past sunset, and after a light dinner, we sit awkwardly on the couch watching the local news.

The awkwardness isn’t like me. For one thing, I’m used to touching people I barely know. For another, he and I weren’t awkward last night. We kissed and cuddled, and we slept in the same bed together. It all felt completely natural.

I’m drawn to him.

I find myself wanting to curl into him, but I don’t know if I should. I’m not in a sexual mood. Until The Incident, sex was as natural for me as breathing. These days, not so much.

I want to touch him, though. Not just to feel the warmth of another human being, but to feel him.

I can’t explain why I’m hesitant. Maybe it’s just my messed-up brain.

He looks at me a few times, and it seems like he might be leaning in to kiss me. But he doesn’t.

So when it gets late, I say good night, stand up, and aim for the bed upstairs in his office, praying that sleep will find me soon.

I don’t get far, though, before Kurt hops up off the couch and follows me. He sighs and pinches his nose. “I’m sorry, I know this is weird. Now that I’ve thought about it, I’m not really comfortable having you be by yourself all night. It’s not that I don’t trust you?—”

“I ain’t done the right things to earn your trust.”

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