Page 56 of Nash

He lifts my chin. “What does that mean? I don’t speak PhD.”

“It means I’m ‘All But Dissertation.’ I’ve passed all my classes, done all my research, and started and stopped writing my final dissertation about five times.”

“Why?”

I rest my chin on my hand over his chest. With Nash, I feel like I can confess anything. Like he’d never judge.

“Because for so many years, I felt like a fraud. At Delta’s, I teach everyone about sex and sexuality, but my sex life has sucked. I guess deep down, I doubted myself. I didn’t feel qualified to have a PhD in something I actually failed at.”

He brushes the hair from my face. “You’re speaking in past tense.”

“Yeah, because suddenly, I’m having orgasmic sex with you, and we haven’t even fucked, so I’m feeling like an erotic goddess, but…” He raises a brow, waiting. “But I don’t want to finish now. I don’t want to be a professor. I don’t want to do research and write about sexuality; I want to help people with it. I think I want to be a sex therapist instead.”

Jealousy flashes across his eyes. “You’ll have sex with patients?”

“No, never! Get your mind out of the porno gutter. As an accountant, do you fuck numbers to fix them?”

“No. I figure them out until they work, until they balance.”

“That’s what a sex therapist does. I’d help clients figure out their emotional and mental blocks regarding sex and intimacy. You have no idea how many people suffer with it.” I pause. “But I do. I have. It feels like you’re trapped in a cage with no key.”

His gaze, usually so cold and stoic, fills with warmth. He cups my cheek, his thumb gently brushing over it. “Do you want to tell me about it?” Softly, he grins, making me feel so safe. “Youmight not listen, but I always will.”

Even his cute joke fills me with warmth.

If there were a man I trusted to tell this to, it would be Nash. But trusting men after one hurt me and another abandoned me is not a place I’m in. Not yet.

I shake my head. “Not really. Not now. I’ve done a lot of work to heal. And yes, all my pussy power books have helped. But let’s just say,” my throat suddenly strangles, “it’s why I don’t kiss on the lips.”

It makes me pause as I chew them, fighting back the tears and the memory, too. “My kiss was taken from me,” I share, “and I’m still trying to get it back.”

But I give Nash this; I let him see my tears about it.

He clenches his teeth, his nostrils flaring as the hinge of his jaw flexes. He swallows slowly like rocks fill his throat, but he won’t look away from me.

Nash holds my truth with me, and I know how protective he is, so that was hard for him to hear. His eyes look full of love, yet like he wants to murder, too, but he’s helpless to do anything about it now.

He cups my cheeks, his voice stirring with deep rage and care. “Will you let me help you get it back?”

“You already have,” I answer, kissing the inked flesh above his pounding heart. My pain beats through his veins, too; I can feel it. Then I kiss his neck, my lips sensing the thunder of his furious, protective pulse; it matches mine. Gently, I kiss his scruffy, granite jaw before I find his ear and tenderly confess, “You’re the beast who set me free.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

VALE

“They’re all sourced locally,”Alena tells me on our video chat. “Magnolia leaves, eucalyptus, white roses. I want simple wildflower bouquets.”

“They’re beautiful,” I tell her, admiring the sample bouquet she’s showing me. The florist sent it to Alena’s ranger office in Pisgah Forest.

“Let me see.” Blair pops up from her chair. She’s in a good mood. I don’t know what’s gotten into her today, but it’s not Beau Bronson, so I’m not complaining. “Oh!” She claps when she sees it. “I high key love it!”

“I think they’ll look great with your dresses, don’t you?” Alena asks like I wouldn’t wear a garbage bag for her while I proudly carry a bouquet of used tissues.

“It’s going to be the perfect day,” I tell her. “Yourday.”

“I agree,” Blair answers. “And I promise, I’m getting out of my fuck funk. I got my dress fitted yesterday. It just needs more room for the girls, but it looks gorgeous. It made me feel human again. Thank you. I love the sage green you picked.”

Alena beams. “Vale, did you get your dress, too?”

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