“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she says, unsure of herself, but I feel the same way, so I tell her.
“I don’t either.”
“I mean . . . I haven’t . . .”
“Been with anyone?” I ask, my words slipping out, wondering if that’s why she’s moving so slowly with me.
I know I’ve embarrassed her when she covers her face and doesn’t say anything, but I’m not appeasing her this time by letting her avoid me. I need her to start talking and stop being afraid that I’m gonna judge her.
Grabbing on to her hips, I pull her down onto my lap, taking her hands away from her face.
“Talk to me.”
She takes a moment before she finally exposes a part of herself to me. “Only once, but he was really drunk and it . . . well, it was pretty much over before it began.”
God, this chick is practically a virgin, and the thought of some guy using her gets under my skin. Shit, just the thought of any guy, other than me, touching her makes me jealous as hell.
“Sounds like an ass**le.”
“He was,” she responds. “But it kept my parents off my back. They really liked him and his family, so we would go out every now and then, but that was about it. So, I can’t help but sometimes wonder what you’re doing with me.”
“Look at me,” I demand because I hate that she would belittle herself for even a second. “I don’t give a shit how inexperienced you are. In fact, I prefer that because the thought of another guy touching you pisses me off. That guy was a dick for treating you like you were disposable. But don’t devalue yourself because of that. I won’t rush you into anything. You know that, right?”
When she nods her head, I try to make it even clearer when I add, “You’re what I want. No one else, okay?”
“I just get scared, and I feel like you might start thinking you’re wasting your time with me. I know you’d prefer that I stay here with you every night, but that’s what scares me. I just need to move slow with this.”
“You’re not a waste of my time. You’re worth every second.”
If she only knew how I take in every moment with her, she wouldn’t have to even question this. So when I see her nodding and letting out a sigh, almost in relief at my words, I take her face in my hands and kiss her. Slow. Because time doesn’t matter to me with her. I don’t even move; I just rest my lips on hers. It’s only when she slips out a giggle that I pull back, and with a smirk, ask, “What?”
“Can we get off your bathroom floor now?” she says with a smile, and I have to laugh at her, happy to see that she’s feeling better about this situation. At least I hope she is.
“Let’s get out of here,” I suggest and stand to help her up off the floor.
“Where are we going?”
“Let’s go hang out at Zoca’s and get some coffee.”
“Perfect.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Yesterday, after Candace got upset about seeing the photos, I took her to a local coffee shop where we ran into Gavin. I was nervous having Candace meet him, someone who knows way too much of my past, after she had just gotten a glimpse of it. Oddly, he wasn’t as brash as he normally is, and the two of them seemed to get along for what small talk they wound up having, which wasn’t much.
I’ve definitely put space between us, but I’ve known him for nearly ten years, and it’s strange not having him be more of a presence. He stops by the bar on occasion to listen to bands and grab a drink, but it’s not like it used to be.
I turn around from my desk, sliding the credenza open to take out a few files that I need to run up to the bar, when I see the mattes that I had thrown in here last night. I hate that Candace had to see those. I didn’t consider her reaction then, but now, I regret ever showing her. I don’t blame her for being so upset, having to see images of women from my past, knowing that I had slept with them. It’s something we haven’t done with each other, haven’t even come close, and I tossed those images out there for her without thinking about how hard it would be for her to see.
I don’t even want to think about her kissing another guy, touching another guy, but to see images like that . . . I know I would have lost my shit, so I can’t hold her reaction against her. She has every right.
These photos are my past, a past where I never considered meeting a girl like Candace. A past full of masks, trying to hide from the person I was scared to be. A person that I am now realizing I might be able to be—because of her. Because she is the one I want to take care of—protect. No girl has ever made me feel that way, but she does, and wanting to love her is so much more powerful than my fear of loving her.
Grabbing the mattes, I head downstairs to my garage and don’t give it a second thought when I toss them in the trash. They have no meaning to me, and she doesn’t need reminders of my past lying around my home. I don’t need the reminders either.
When I go back upstairs, I grab the files and my keys and head over to the bar. When I get there, I run into Max out in the parking lot, and he follows me up to my office.
“How’s everything with Traci?” I ask as he shuts the door, and I sit down at my desk.
“I’m freaking the hell out, man,” he says, running his hand over his head.
I chuckle under my breath. I’ve never seen him this tense. “You’ve gotta relax.”