Page 89 of Love Notes & Lifelines
He runs one finger along my collarbone and pulls me down so I’m lying on the couch, the back of my head cushioned by his legs while he carelessly tosses the folded laundry onto the coffee table, and I’m struck mute.
“There’s so much about you that I don’t know.” He studies me as though he’s memorizing every truth and lie I’ve ever told him.
There’s so much he can’t know.
“And you’re right,” he continues. “I’ve never been a team player, but something about you makes me rethink my process.”
Surely he isn’t suggesting…
“But there’s so much you don’t know about me either,” he says.
“Like what?” I can’t quite keep my voice steady.
“For starters, I’ve never been in a relationship.” He’s staring down at me so earnestly that he has to be telling the truth. But how? How is that possible?
I sit upright. He most definitely did not feel like a virgin when he was inside of me.
Warmth floods my cheeks, and he winks. “But how?”
“I said I didn’t have relationships, but I did have relations.”
“Oh.” I rub at the crease between my brows. Then his meaning sinks in. “Oh,” I say more loudly. “Right. Of course.”
“Does that make you uncomfortable, Stella Jane?”
Why does my stomach hollow out every time he calls me that?
“No. Maybe? Is that what you want? Relations without the ship?” I’m not sure I could do that on a regular basis. I get too attached. I might already be attached.
Silas’s words sliced me open. Maybe I’ll never be able to erase his voice cutting over the crowd like serrated knives intent on inflicting the most pain.
“You’ll only ever be a sidepiece, Stella. Don’t you see that? Mistress material but never someone you’d wife up. Am I right?”Our colleagues had all laughed uncomfortably but urged him on as though my life were an 80s frat party and bad behavior was rewarded.
“Hey, Stella. Where’d you go?”
I blink so quickly, the room becomes a blur. That’s when I notice my chest heaving with sharp, erratic breaths.
Crap.
“Shh,” he says, pulling me into his lap. I can’t reconcile this protector side of him with the man who hasrelationswithout any strings.
“What is it, Stella? Tell me and I’ll fix it. I will.” It’s there in his tone—he really would try.
“S-sorry,” I stutter. “I must be tired. This is silly.” I attempt to move, but he clutches me tighter, then hands me a baby towel to dry my eyes that hold moisture in the corners like I’m holding on for dear life.
“Tell me, Stella.”
“It’s nothing, really. It’s been a lot of change, and I’m a creature of habit. Apparently I’m not sleeping as well as I thought.”
“Bullshit. What about my relations sent you spiraling into a memory?”
“Nothing,” I lie again, but he holds my chin hostage. It’s harder to deceive him to his face.
God, am I going to do this? I’ve seen him determined before. If he really wants to find out, he has access to my employment history. It would take less than five minutes for him to unearth my truth.
I can’t tell him about this while sitting in his lap. “It’s fine. You should probably hear it from me anyway.” My voice breaks. “I really need space to tell you this.”
“No. You’re upset. I caused it, at least in part, so there will be no space between us.”
