Page 64 of Rake

She smiles at me and I point to a rusty old swing set. The swings are still in place.

“It’ll probably scream like a banshee,” she says.

“Well if I sit on it, sure. But not you.”

The chains creak when she sits on the u-shaped plastic seat but don’t give more than the usual groan as I push her gently a few times.

“My father wanted to marry another woman,” I say. “My sister Siobhan told me. She found out over the summer.”

Sasha digs the heels of her boots into the crusty snow under the swing and turns to look at me.

“What?”

“He was in love with a woman named Kathleen, but she didn’t feel the same way. Married another man and my father hated him and his family ever since. He convinced my brothers and I to hate his family too. And I did. I still do in some ways. It’s hard to lose that programming.”

“Is that why he’s such a dick?” she asks.

Jesus. I let out a loud laugh. “No. He’s always been a dick. That’s probably why Kathleen married Murphy Doyle instead. Knew she’d have kinder children. Siobhan’s dating their son Kieran.”

“Are your parents okay with that?” she asks.

“They don’t love it, but as much as my father hates Murphy Doyle for beating him, the Doyles are a very powerful family in their own right. And he loves my sister. He knows she’ll be happy with Kieran.”

I hate to admit it. All of it.

“And his family?”

“Mother’s long gone. Father’s on his way out too.”

“I see.”

Does she understand why I’m telling her this? I care about this woman. But even if she gives me a chance and things work out between us, it’ll be a difficult road. I won’t ask her yet, though. She needs more time. And I have a lot to prove by her.

She moves off the swing and takes my hand. We walk back toward the river. She stops me at the edge of the playground.

“Finn. I need to ask you something, and I need you to tell me the truth. Do you promise to do that?”

“I’ll never lie to you again, Sasha. Not directly, not by omission, not at all.”

What could be on her mind? A million possibilities run through mine.

“Did you honestly have sex with me because you wanted me, or because you wanted something from me?”

The vulnerability in her eyes. I want to be someone worthy of this woman.

“I wanted you,” I say, honestly. “Did I go into this thinking I’d use my masculine charms on you to get my way? Yes.”

She rolls her eyes at that and I love her for it.

“But it turns out I was seduced by your kindness and your beauty. I don’t know how you can’t see how beautiful you are, Sasha. I wanted you so much it scares me. I haven’t really had the connection between sex and the feelings part since, well, what happened when I was younger. But something’s different with you, and I honestly am terrified by it. Sex has always been casual for me until now.”

Fear is not something that’s easy for a man like me to admit. But I owe this to Sasha.

Her fingertips are on the front of my jacket and she’s staring up at me, trying to assess whether I’m being honest or not.

“I know it must sound pathetic to you,” she says. “I don’t mean to sound overly sentimental. But I didn’t want my first time to be a transaction.”

“Mine was,” I say. She cringes and starts to apologize.

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