Page 68 of Rescuing Nathaniel

“Making you breakfast,” he said, indicating the two plates of pancakes.

“Aww. That’s the sweetest thing ever,” Ava gushed as her bare feet padded across the floorboards as she crossed the kitchen to his side. “You're not going to give me a good morning kiss?”

“Uh, course I am.” Somewhat self-consciously, he captured Ava’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her face up so he could brush his lips across hers.

It was a chaste kiss in deference to the fact that they had an audience, but Ava gave a content sigh when he broke away and snuggled against his side.

“You staying for breakfast?” Ava asked Teresa.

“Nope. Already ate while you two sleepyheads were still in bed. I’m going to go drag Chelsea out of the bathroom and we’re heading into work. Enjoy pancakes with your man, and we’ll see you tonight.”

While he squirmed somewhat uncomfortably at Teresa’s blatant label, Ava didn't seem to mind in the least the implication that they were together.

Were they?

They hadn't talked about it.

There was a chance that Ava had only had sex with him last night because she felt sorry for him. His childhood had been a mess, and hers had been fairly close to perfect, well minus her two rude and insensitive parents, so maybe she just wanted to try to make him feel better, and that’s why she’d quite literally thrown herself at him.

Even as he thought it, Nathaniel knew it wasn't true.

That wasn't the kind of woman Ava was, and the way she’d looked at him, touched him, screamed his name when she came, was not something she’d done out of some misguided sense of pity.

“You think so hard.” Ava’s fingertips smoothed across his forehead where his brow had obviously furrowed as he’d conjured up reasons to derail this thing between them before it even got going.

“Occupational hazard,” he murmured, the feel of her smooth fingers brushing over his skin soothing him more than he was willing to admit.

“Hazard of your job or your childhood?” she asked softly, continuing her gentle ministrations.

There was no judgment in her tone, and thankfully, no pity either. Just empathy, and a desire to understand him better.

Would that really be so bad?

To let someone in just a little bit?

Not someone. To letAvain a little bit.

“Childhood,” he acknowledged as he grasped her hand and guided her to the table. As much as he loved the feel of her touching him, he needed some space if he was going to do this.

“Bye, lovebirds,” Chelsea’s voice called out, and Ava chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“See you tonight,” Teresa added.

“Bye,” Ava called back to both her friends, and then a moment later they heard the front door close, leaving them alone in the apartment.

Nervous, although there was no reason he should be, Nathaniel bustled about, putting a plate of pancakes in front of Ava and then getting out a range of toppings since he didn't know what she liked on her pancakes. He got them both glasses of apple juice, and cups of coffee, and by the time he finally took his seat beside her, he found Ava watching him with amusement dancing in her blue eyes.

“Finished procrastinating?” she asked as she poured a generous amount of maple syrup on her pancakes.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” He gave her a sheepish smile but loved it when her bright laugh tinkled through the room.

“You know you can talk to me, Nathaniel,” Ava said, her voice growing serious and earnest. “I can't pretend I know what it’s like to grow up with an abusive drunk as a father, or a mother who was relieved someone else was taking her husband’s beatings. I don’t know what it’s like to struggle financially and go hungry, or to not have a warm house to sleep in and clean clothes to wear. But I can listen, and I can offer support to who you are now. You’re not your past, Nathaniel. That’s one thing I had to learn when I broke away from my parents’ crushing rules and forced obligations. I'm not them, I'm not who they want me to be, I'm not who anyone thinks I should be. I'm just me. And you're just you. Shaped by your past but not defined by it.”

No one had ever phrased it like that before.

Not even himself.

Always Nathaniel had allowed his past to define everything about him. Who he was, who he let into his life, who he kept out of it, what he allowed himself to do, even what he allowed himself to hope for.

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