Page 70 of For a Goode Time Call…
“So you ain’t just usin’ me to avoid working out your issues?”
“No.”
“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, babe.” His voice was a growl. “Don’t lie toyourself.”
“Why are you being so mean?” I snapped, yanking my hand away and scrambling away from him. “Why do you fucking care what I do with my goddamn life?”
“Because I want our lives to be one life. And you can’t offer yourself and your life if you’re still lost and refusing to face your shit.”
“It’s hard!” I yelled. “You have no fucking idea how hard it is. I losteverything. I had to sell and donate half of my life and belongings because I couldn’t afford to ship it home from Paris. I lost my career, my passion. My fuckingmobility.My fiancé, and everything I thought I knew about him and our relationship. I—lost—everything—in that goddamn car wreck. So yeah, I’m still a bit of a mess. Still figuring it out. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to offer you.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He frowned, puzzling through his thoughts.
“It’s what you said.” I was fighting another sob-fest.
“I know. But you’re missing my point. It’s not about what I’m getting from you. It’s what I want for you. For the us that could be.”
“Okay, Yoda. Whatthefuckever.”
“Don’t, Cass. You’re avoiding yourself. You’re scared to face it. That’s okay. I’m here. I’ll help. And if you need time, I’ll be there waiting when you figure it out.” His voice was soft and quiet and tender. “I’m not pushing you away. I’m not rejecting you. I’m just saying we can’t have a real relationship until you face your own shit.”
“And what about you?” I snarled. “You have your own share of demons, don’t you? What about the fact that you didn’t even jack off for what, almost ten years? Because one woman messed you up? One woman hurt you? You took that all on yourself and shut down totally. You think that’s healthy? You think one night of messing around has fixed all that? You think I’m the only one that has shit to face?”
“There’s a difference, Cassie. Yeah, I have shit to handle. Yeah, it affects you and us—but that requires us working together. Me learning to trust you, and learning to trust myself. To open up. It will happen, but it’ll take time. I’m willing to do it. I’m admitting I have a hard time being open. I admit I hold back a lot, don’t express shit very well when it comes to physical stuff. I admit I’m afraid of letting go. You’re right. It’s at least in part because I’m afraid ofme, not you. I know you don’t want to hurt me. Even when you left, I knew it was not about me, it was about you. I watched you leave, you know. I watched you struggle. I got it then, and I get it now. Yeah, Cass, I’m fucking afraid of intimacy. I’m afraid of vulnerability. I’m afraid of letting go. But I’m admitting that, and I’m committing to you, right here, right now, that I can and will actively work toward total trust and vulnerability with you, emotionally and physically. Because I believe you and me have a real shot at a relationship like my cousin has, like all her in-laws have. I see all fuckin twelve of ’em, Lucas included, havin’ these deep meaningful fulfilling fuckin’ romances…and Iwantthat shit.”
His eyes bored into mine.
“I want that shit for myself. And I want that shit withyou.” He was utterly still, and that stillness, the quiet intensity in his deep voice made his words hit me all the harder, like a comet smashing into earth. “I want that shit with you, and I am willin’ to do whatever the fuck it takes to be the man you deserve. To begood. For you, for us. So I can fulfill you. I’lldothat shit, Cass.”
Tears, fucking tears. Lump in my throat. Ache in my chest. Can’t breathe. Can’t swallow. Can’t make my limbs or fingers or brain or mouth or anything work. Just paralyzed.
“I don’t believe in falling in love, Cassandra.” A pause, fraught and significant. “I ain’t fallen in love with you.”
Another pause. I tried to digest what he was saying. “Ink…” a broken whisper.
“I believe love grows. It’sbuilt. It ain’t a fuckin’ accident. What is it my cousin’s teenage kids say all the time? I caught feelings for you.Thatwas an accident. I didn’t mean for that shit to happen. Feelings come and go, though. I coulda stayed shut down, coulda taken the progress you helped me make and walked. I got offers from tattoo parlors all over the world. I could move to Tahiti and do tattoos full-time. Anywhere. I don’t gotta be here.” A shake of his head. “But Iamhere. I’m withyou. I’m facin’ my shit and saying the hard things, the hard fuckin’ truths, scared out of my mind you won’t get it, you won’t agree. Because I choose—Ichoose—to build a love with you. To grow a love with you.”
“Fucking hell, Ink.” The world was blurred through a screen of tears.
“All that bein’ said, babe.” Big rough fingers brushed my tears away. “What doyouwant?”
I shook my head. “I don’t fuckingknow!”
“I ain’t askin’ you to have all the answers now, Cass. I’m just asking you to be willing to actuallylook.”
My leg ached. Throbbed. Burned.
So did my heart.
I felt anger. Unreasoning anger, unrealistic, irrational. At him. At myself. At life. At god or fate, or luck. At Rick. At the lorry driver who ran the light. At him. At Ink. Because he was saying shit that scared me into the kind of irrational fear that became anger.
I was ready for hot sex, with feelings.
I was okay having caught some feelings for this man.
That’s fine.
But love?
