Page 73 of Axe Backwards
“Have you ever thought that maybe it’s not that you’re too much? Could it be that the people you surrounded yourself with weren’t good enough? Graham wasn’t good enough for you. He wasn’t smart enough, passionate enough, kind enough.”
I blanched.
He spun and straightened, adjusting his hat. “And instead of realizing that and pushing himself to be better, he convinced you that you were the problem and made you feel small, which made it easier for him to control you.”
His words hit me like a punch to the face.Holy fucking shit.“We’ve been friends for a matter of weeks, and already, you’re cutting to the heart of it. I spent eight months in therapy, and it took at least half that for me to get there. I’m still learning to embrace my big feelings.”
He shrugged. “Maybe big feelings are your superpower.”
That was truly laughable. “Oh, please. You’re a man. You can get away with saying that shit, but women? Can’t have feelings,lest we make the menfolk uncomfortable.” Out of habit, I waved my arms wildly.
“Feelings don’t make me uncomfortable.” He sat on the floor in front of me, patting Tess’s back. “For my entire adult life, I’ve compartmentalized and suppressed feelings. They had no place in my job or in my life.” With a soft smile, he dropped a kiss to her head. “Now? I’m all feelings, and it’s okay. There are days they pile up on my chest like bricks and I worry I won’t be able to breathe—”
“Noah.”
“For years and years, I pushed it all down. I didn’t feel connected to myself, let alone anyone else. I learned in childhood to channel my manic energy into physical stuff.”
“Hence all the injuries.”
He nodded. “If not for Jude, I’d be dead. He talked me out of so much stupid shit and dragged my ass home every time I broke a bone. But that mindset fucked me up.”
“I’m sure.”
“By the time I hit high school, I was itching to get away from my family, to get away from everyone. Because I was crazy and wild and untethered. Every woman I ever dated told me I was best in small doses.”
My heart panged for him. Scooting back, I pulled my legs up under me. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means I had no depth. No points of connection. I was the wild, fun guy. Nothing more.”
With a frown, I studied his serious expression. “I don’t believe that.”
“I chased the lifestyle that reinforced my beliefs. I was constantly on the move, constantly looking for excitement and danger. It made sense for me. I was that guy.”
I slid onto the floor next to him and put my arm around his broad shoulders. “You are not that guy. You’re a hell of a lot more than that guy.”
“And you’re fucking perfect.”
His words hung in the air between us, making it hard to breathe. Normally I’d brush off a comment like that, but the sincerity in his eyes was like a blow to the solar plexus.
His focus dipped to my lips, like maybe he was considering kissing me again. We hadn’t spoken of the almost kiss that was interrupted by psychotic Olaf or the one we’d shared by the pool, the one for show, but I’d thought about both almost constantly.
But I was drawn to him. I was both comfortable in his presence and challenged by it.
Could it happen again?
I leaned in almost imperceptibly, watching his face.
Before I found the courage to move in closer, he looked away.
Okay, then.
In one quick move, he was on his feet and patting Tess’s back again, headed for her room.
I scrambled back up onto the couch and focused on my breathing, embarrassed by what I’d almost done and hoping like hell he hadn’t noticed.
When he emerged a few moments later, he gave me a big thumbs-up. I still couldn’t quite believe Tess was sleeping in her crib. It felt like this massive accomplishment.
I thought we’d watch TV and ignore the tension that had been building.
