Page 13 of Meant for Them
“You're right, I should have spoken to you. Unfortunately, I can't go back and change the circumstances. But for what it's worth, I'd probably do it the exact same way again if I had to redo it, because I got you out of there as fast as possible. I know you hate me, but all I wanted was to give you safety and comfort.”
I mean, he's not backing down at all. Why is that attractive? “It never crossed your mind to try and talk to me? To ask me what I was doing after my shift and take me out for a meal? Even if you didn't want to do that, you could have asked for my phone number, walked me home afterwards, literally anythingotherthan leaving and making a bunch of phone calls, leaving me tofind out my fate without you. I humiliated myself trying to find a different job.
“And that's the other thing. Maybe you had good intentions, but offering me the job you did felt like a slap in the face. Like all I was good for was what I could provide for you aesthetically. You offered me a job that said you didn't value my brain, didn't value what I could add to your life, you only fortified thoughts I've had myself. That I'm only worth what my body can do.”
He covers his face with his hands, and his shoulders start shaking. Then, he surprises the hell out of me and starts sobbing. He doesn't deserve my comfort because he put himself in this position; but maybe I could, I don't know, get closer to him or something? Might feel less awkward to speak if we're not across the entire room from each other.
I cover up with some of my old, threadbare sleeping shorts and another baggy shirt before I do anything else, because they feel good on my skin and because it covers up what the world tells me is my best feature.
When I get out there, he's still in the same position. He looks up at my bare feet walking across his hardwood floors, smiling a bit to himself. “I've never wanted something real. I've never met somebody that I wanted like this... I'm having a difficult time conveying what it is that's in my head to you. I keep messing up.”
I sit down across from him, cross my legs, and start gathering my hair to tie it up in a bun. “Yeah, well, no one’s ever wanted me before. It's... off-putting.”
“I guess we should just stop with the cleaning charade now. That was really dumb of me, wasn't it?”
“I mean, are there plenty of meet cutes where people go to work for somebody and end up falling for them? Maybe I can see what you were thinking, but the fact that it was toplesscleaning service, turning me into your maid? Surely you see how that unbalances our power levels even more. You came into this leagues above me and then kept me firmly under heel. I can't develop feelings for somebody that has so much power over me.”
“You clearly have a wolf, but, and forgive me if this is insensitive, do half-breeds not feel the mating pull like the rest of us do? Because I feel like I'm losing my mind, and you always seem so cool, calm, and collected.”
“They might be slightly dulled compared to you, but I promise, I'm fighting my wolf every second of the day to keep my head above water.”
He looks around, taking in his house. “I guess this place is pretty ostentatious, isn't it? Would you prefer something more modest? We can look at properties as soon as tomorrow. Actually, let me back up. Will you live here with me? Not as my housekeeper, but just to live here and keep me company? To get to know you. I'll be much less of an ass if I know you're somewhere safe. I like feeding you, like seeing you in my space.”
There we go. It’s an honest offer, one that I would be dumb to turn down. “Can I ask what you do for work? I admit that working here cleaning your house is not the best dynamic for us if we want to see what we could be, but if I want to feel fulfilled, I need a job. I need a way to make my own income so that I know I have a safety net on the off chance I need it. I haven't gotten this far on my own by not playing it safe.”
“How longhaveyou been on your own?”
“About 13 or 14? Honestly, I don't really remember. My mom... she figured I was big enough at that point to take care of myself. Paid for my apartment for a couple of years, but I never really saw her. By the time I was 16, I dropped out of high school so that I could work full time to support myself. My rent stoppedgetting paid, and I was not about to end up on the streets. I figured having a roof over my head was more important than getting an education.”
He extends a hand toward me, inviting me to get closer. I don't know what that's like, to be held by somebody that's safe. Mom was never one for much affection, she was always so touched out by the time I got to spend any sort of time with her during the day.
I'm cautious as I crawl toward him, looking at the hand that’s big, strong, calloused, and warm.
When I'm close enough to him, I place my hand in his, and I let him pull me closer to his body. Every nerve ending feels like a live wire, and he doesn't stop fussing with me until I'm seated comfortably between his legs, one of his legs bent over the mine, my shoulder leaning against his chest. Our faces are inches away, and it's intimate. But strangely, it doesn't make me feel scared.
“Did you have any interest in getting your diploma or your GED?”
“It would probably help with the whole job thing if I was educated, wouldn't it? It's just never really felt like an option.”
“Do you want it to be? To answer your earlier question, I was fortunate enough to inherit a good amount of money, but I've kept it growing by investing in real estate, mainly. Flipping businesses, buying and selling property, that kind of thing. That's why it felt natural to me—”
“To buy out where I worked. That would have been helpful information earlier, I suppose.”
He takes a deep breath and cautiously tucks some of my hair behind my ear. He lets his thumb linger on my cheekbone, andsuddenly I'm dying to be kissed. I want to know what it feels like to have someone's lips pressed against mine, for all this blood racing through my veins to have a goal to work toward. But he stays infuriatingly removed.
“In case I wasn't clear, the fact that you’re a half-breed means nothing to me. And I guess I need to learn better communication skills.” He looks at me thoughtfully for a minute, chewing the inside of his lip. “If you could have any job, what would you want to do? What do you want to learn about? If there was no obstacle in your way, what kind of work would make your heart happy to do?”
“Nobody's ever asked me that before. I guess... and I swear I'm not saying this because of what you just told me, I've always loved the idea of recreating spaces. I've watched some of those home renovation shows when I was at the laundromat. I think having skills like that, to know what colors go together and how to install cabinets, to be able to make a table or hang a light from the ceiling… I obviously don't know anything about what goes into all that, but if I could pick anything to do, it would be that. I think it would be fun to take a space and make it nicer so somebody could have a good home.”
“Do you want to learn?”
“That feels like too much to ask of you.”
Without me realizing it, our faces have gotten closer together, and I can feel his heart beating so hard against his chest from where my shoulder rests against him. I make a conscious decision to lean into him more, to give the weight of my body over to him. He slowly wraps his arms around me, keeping his legs high on either side of me and I feel protected for the first time in maybe forever. And when he brushes a kiss on myforehead? It feels like maybe this is where I was meant to be all along.
“The goddess seems to think we belong together. What do you think about that? In comparison, offering to help you get an education seems minimal.”
It makes sense. It's the smart thing to do. I'm being offered an actual future, a possible career; would I really consider saying no because of some misplaced pride? Because I feel like I didn't personally deserve it or earn it? “You make a good point, sir.”
