Page 47 of The Best Kind of Forever
Her lower lip pops out with a tremble, and she looks about seconds away from crying. “Promise you won’t be mad, okay?” Her voice is small and unsure, almost like she knows she shouldn’t be asking in the first place.
Not a great start.
“I promise,” I tell her. And I do…to the best of my ability.
Her confidence languishes and her guard lowers, revealing the shell of a girl who’s been broken one too many times. I hate seeing Aeris sad. I want to fix whatever it is that’s bothering her, but I need to remember that I’m here to listen, not to come up with a solution to all her problems.
“I had an ex named Wilder. We dated for two years. There were, um, there were a lot of things wrong with our relationship. He was manipulative and cruel and judgmental, and I cared for him a lot more than he cared for me. I’m honestly not even sure why I stayed with him for as long as I did. I did everything I could to make him happy. I dressed differently, I ate the food that he suggested, I didn’t talk when we were around his friends. There was one point when I would’ve done anything he asked of me.
“When Roden passed, Wilder abandoned me when I needed him the most. I don’t know why, and I don’t think I’ll ever know. I kept blaming myself for driving him away—convincing myself that it was my fault he no longer wanted to be with me.Ialways took the fall forhismistakes. In my eyes, he could do no wrong, and that did a number on my self-esteem.
“So when I first started seeing you, I was worried about being vulnerable around another person. I was afraid I’d have a Wilder 2.0 on my hands. He always had an opinion on my body, and there are lingering parts of me that still believe his toxic words. I’m sorry I’ve waited this long to tell you, Hayes. But that was the reason I was so hesitant to go out with you.”
Wow. Aeris just dropped a lot on me, but I think what hurts the most is her not seeing herself the way I see her. Yeah, I’m fucking angry over her douche of an ex, but we’ll get to that later.
“Oh, Stacks,” I whisper, reaching my arm out to graze her knee. When she doesn’t flinch away, I settle my hand on her leg, hoping that the gesture will at least soothe her a little bit. “I’m sorry you went through that. And I feel so honored that you trusted me enough to tell me.”
“I know that you’re nothing like him. I’m sorry that I held back from you in the beginning.” The pain in her tone is strong enough to topple a small fleet of ships, and she dismisses the water in her eyes with a rub of her hand.
“No, you don’t need to apologize for anything,” I tell her, pulling her quailing frame into my steady one, letting her bury her face in the junction of my neck.
“You’re so incredible, Hayes. I just wish I looked better for you.”
Wrath kickstarts a fire in my chest. “Stop.”
Uh-oh. There’s that notorious Hollings temper, rearing its ugly head. I need to get my anger under control. I can’t just be blowing my top whenever Aeris needs me to stay calm.
She pulls away from me to sniffle. “But—”
The growl in my voice is unintended, but I don’t apologize for letting it slip out. “No buts. I’m not going to sit here and listen to you talk badly about yourself.”
Tears travel an errant path down her cheeks, watery pearls adhering to her lashes. A tiny sob sputters out of her, and she tries to twist away from me, but I hold her still. I wipe the wet space below her eye with my thumb, then delicately glide it over the dark circles.
“Aeris, do you trust me?” I ask tenderly.
She nods, but the deflated look on her face makes my heart feel like it’s cracked in half and is spilling out onto the floorboards.
“Undress for me.”
A frown underlines the curve of her brows. “What?”
“Do you trust me?” I repeat, stripping my voice of its natural roughness.
She hesitates for a second, but then starts removing her clothing until all that’s left is her stunning, naked body. Everything about her is perfect, all the way down to that trimmed triangle of hair just above the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted. Just the sight of her sends my body into full throttle, pleasure kindling in the pit of my stomach.
She covers her chest with her arms, looking anywhere but at my eyes. I get up from the bed, then shed my boxers so we’re on an equal playing field.
I kneel down in front of her, resting my hands on her waist. “Tell me which parts of your body you don’t like,” I command, looking up at her, watching as curiosity eclipses her expression.
“Hayes, I’m not going to—”
“Tell me which parts of your body you don’t like.”
She’s quiet for a beat, but then her lips start to move. “I…I don’t like my stretchmarks,” she says, shuffling her feet a little, still holding her arms against her torso.
I run my hand over her thighs, noting the raised texture of the scars, letting my finger stray over each individual branch of lightning. My lips travel over the marks, and I press a cluster of kisses against her flawless skin. “Your stretchmarks are beautiful. Your body had to adjust for a change in weight and growth, and I think that’s pretty amazing. Scars are reminders of what we’ve endured, but also reminders of what we’ve overcome.”
“They’re still so raw and red. They stand out.”
