Slut (15 page)

“Because I love you. Being angry at you doesn’t change how I feel about you, Rebecca.”

I thought my heart was done breaking, but I was wrong. “How can you love me if you don’t trust me? If you don’t believe in me?” I referred to what happened in his room at the lake house.

“Maybe it’s me I didn’t believe in.”

“What?” I hadn’t heard him correctly.

“It wasn’t that I believed Brendan over you. Or chose him over you. I didn’t think you could want to be with a man like me. I didn’t think I was enough for you.”

“Where would you ever get that idea?”

“I’m boring. I do what I’m supposed to do. I live by the rules. And you’re this fire… you burn away everything. Rules and boxes, the neat little ways we have of organizing people and things. Why would you ever be happy with someone like me?”

“Because I love you, too.” I didn’t mean to confess it, but there was no going back now and I didn’t want to.

He leaned over, his head on my stomach. My hand hovered over his head, and I touched his hair, comforted him before I dropped another bomb.

“But I fell in love with me, too. And I deserve to be with someone who trusts me. Love, it’s a wonderful thing. It really is. But if there’s no trust, we don’t have anything.”

“I know that, too.”

“And I can’t stop hearing the things Brendan said to me. That I’m just the piece of ass that your parents were making you marry.”

He looked up at me, cupped my uninjured cheek. “I would never think that about you.”

“I believe that. But when he said it, I didn’t. So I didn’t trust you either.”

“We have to be able to fix this, Rebecca. Somehow.” He shook his head. “Holy Christ, but I’m a douche.”

This made me laugh and even though it hurt, it felt good to laugh. “Why?”

“Something happened to you. He was supposed to be my friend and he hurt you and I’m in here talking about my feelings and our relationship.”

“It’s okay. At least we got to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” I was. I sorry for all that we could’ve had and all that was gone.

“Is there anything you need?”

That was a loaded question. Was there anything I needed? Besides for him to love me? Besides wishing I could do the last few days over again?

Then I realized I didn’t wish that at all. I didn’t want to change these days because they’d changed me. I was ready to be this new version of me.

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t enjoy what happened to me or the prospect of what almost happened. I’d never sign up for that. But I couldn’t regret this other side of it, so that meant accepting all of it.

“No, Thornton. I don’t need anything.”

“Then I’ll go. When you’re feeling up to it, maybe we can talk some more?”

I kind of wanted him to demand to stay, but that was stupid. I wasn’t happy when he ignored what I wanted and I wasn’t happy when he gave me what I wanted.

“Yeah. I’d like that.” As if there were anywhere else for us to go with this. We’d already barreled forward into new territory and there was no going back from that. Only more forward. I couldn’t help but want to see him though, because I did love him.

He stood, leaned over and brushed a kiss against my forehead. “If you need anything, call me.”

“I hope this goes without saying, but don’t tell my father.”

“How do you think he’s not going to find out?”

“He will, but I want to be the one to tell him. In my own way. We just made so much progress. I don’t want to lose traction with him. And I know that men, by their very natures are fixers. There’s nothing he can do to fix this for me.”

“You should know that you’ve already started something. This hit the gossips quick. Right after Ryan called me, my mother called demanding to know if it was true. Apparently, another girl has come forward. A girl who used to work for the Tates is saying that he raped her. She didn’t come forward before because she didn’t think anyone would believe her.”

“How does everyone already know?”

“You know how these things go.” He shook his head. “Someone from some gossip rag was probably watching your house. Or they heard the address on the scanner. Someone at the security company.”

“It’s not like I’m a Kardashian or anything. Who cares?” I was uncomfortable.

“You’re Rebecca Foxworth.”

“Whatever that means.”

He studied me for a long moment. “I’ll see you soon.”

When he left, I wanted to cry all over again.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ryan took me home and once back in the penthouse, I didn’t feel safe.

But I would be double dammed if I’d let that asshole push me out of my own house, out of the place that I loved and had made my own. It was mine.

Just like me.

No one was going to take either one of those from me now.

I curled up with Ryan on the couch, holding his bandaged hand. It was nice to be with someone who didn’t want anything from me except what I could give them. Ryan and I had been friends for a long time.

My previous MO, I would have been looking for sex to make all of this go away. To hide from everything I felt and looking at him now, I kept thinking about what he said about us ending up together—tears in our beer.

I knew what it was like to kiss him, it had been nice, but hadn’t done much for either of us. I wondered if that was still true.

Not because I wanted to hide, but I did want to replace all the horror of the day with something good. It was hard to quantify the difference between sex before and how I thought about it now.

Before, I only pretended to be a woman confident and in charge of her own sexuality. I used sex as a weapon and as medicine. But now, thinking about it, it was something that could feel good simply because I wanted to.

Pleasure for the sake of pleasure in truth.

Ryan looked down at me. “So that’s how it is.”

“What?”

“You’re thinking about making a move.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged.

“There’s something different about you now. I like it.”

“Are you sure you’re not just fucked up over J.D.?”

“I am most definitely fucked up over J.D. But you’ve always been hot, B—Rebecca.” He caught himself.

“I guess you’re used to calling me that.”

“I am, but I’ll fix it. I might need a few days grace period.”

I leaned into him, liking how he felt. He was safe, and I guessed that’s all I was ever looking for.

“You don’t think that there’s something wrong with me that after what just happened—”

“No. You want to assert your control over yourself and your choices. I think that’s obvious. I’m honored you’d choose me.” He studied me intently for another minute. “I think that’s what’s different. You are choosing
me
. You’re not just looking for a quick fix or a single use connection that will go away when it doesn’t serve you. But you need to think about how this will affect your relationship with Thornton. You love him.”

“I do, but… we’re done.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Very.”

“Are you sure about
this
?” His gaze centered on my mouth. “Because you didn’t seem too impressed on the riverboat.”

I laughed. “It was kind of like kissing my brother.”

“So why would you want to do that again?”

“Because I’m a kinky bitch?” I teased. God, it felt good to laugh, to tease, to know that if something did happen, it wasn’t going to be shameful, or dirty. I wouldn’t have to talk myself into the act after the chase because it was the act I wanted.

It was a small distinction, but it changed my whole life.

I’d been right, that I didn’t have to be in love to have good sex. It was okay to use my body as I wanted to. It was mine.

It was okay to feel good even if I was in love with Thornton.

It was okay to be in love with Thornton.

All of these things, I knew. But I’d never felt them to be true.

Until now.

I had my own validation, I didn’t need it from elsewhere.

Huh, who knew?

“Well, you decide and let me know,” he said, laughing.

“I have to confess, it was pretty hot watching you beat the shit out of that guy.”

“You’ve told me that’s why you watch football. You like the aggression. What was it you said? Giant apes vying for dominance?”

I laughed. “Maybe. That was more just to give you shit.” I bit my lip. “But I have decided. Today was ugly and I want something not ugly.”

He pulled me over onto his lap. “You sure?”

“We’ll still be friends, right?”

“Always.”

“Then yeah. At least let’s try this kissing thing again.”

“You’re not doing my ego any good, here.”

I laughed and leaned down and kissed him.

It was definitely better than the riverboat. I wasn’t kissing him to get attention, or to tell Thornton to fuck off, this was just for me. As before, he did everything right, but this time, so was I—right, I mean.

He linked his fingers with mine, and I was tentative because of the bandages.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” he murmured against my mouth.

I liked his hands. I liked how strong they were, I liked that they were gentle. I liked that I knew them. I liked how they felt on me.

My body came alive and slowly, the bad memories from today were pushed away with the good memories were making in the now.

There was a part of me that thought I should be making these memories with Thornton, but I didn’t want to, because I loved him. I wanted to prove to myself that I was the woman I wanted to be.

Or I was at least on my way.

I didn’t want to be caught up in other people’s ideas of what I should be. I liked what Claire had said about living in her own skin and this was me, living in mine.

I felt desire for the man I was with. Not just desiring his attention, his validation, but his body.

Maybe it was still a sickness, but his hands torn up from beating the shit out of Brendan really turned me on more, made me ache to have his hands everywhere.

“So much better than the riverboat,” I breathed.

“That’s for damn sure.”

I pressed myself against him, unable to get close enough, hot and cold at the same time. Touching him in return felt good too.

This was so much better than Gavin.

Gavin had been pretty, had also known what he was doing and it had felt good, in passing.

But this was good in a different way and I knew that in the morning, I wouldn’t loathe myself for doing it.

He stood up, still holding me, and carried me back to the bedroom.

Ryan didn’t make love to me, but he didn’t just fuck me either. He didn’t use me and I didn’t use him.

And when we’d both spent, he didn’t get up and leave. Instead, he pulled me close and that was okay too.

Neither one of us had any strange expectations. This hadn’t changed our friendship at all.

I guess I always knew we would have sex, but old me thought it would be like venturing into foreign and forbidden territory and I kind of assumed our friendship would be over then.

“I’m glad this was with you,” I said.

“I can tell this changed something for you. Or was the result of something that changed in you. So I am too.”

I rolled over and looked at him. “I guess you really do know me after all.”

“I’m not a total asshole.”

“You’ve never been any kind of asshole. Except when you called Thornton.”

“Eh, well. You know.” He shrugged.

“You’re still going to stay the night?”

“Yeah. Unless you want me to go.”

“No. I want you right here.” I studied him for a minute. “Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for being the one I can call.”

“Back at you.”

“Are you going to call him?” I asked.

“No.”

“You’re being stubborn.”

“No, I’m being sensible. He can’t—doesn’t want to—handle me as I am. I’m not changing for him or anyone else. So, there’s nothing more to talk about, is there?”

“Maybe.”

“You just want the dirty details.”

“Well, obviously.” I grinned. “But what I want more than stories about you playing cowboy with J.D. Fain, because who doesn’t, is for you to be happy. I’ve never seen you like this with anyone.”

“I keep telling you, it’s not me.”

“Why does he have a problem with bisexuality?”

“Probably for this reason right here. I’m with you. I slept with you. He thinks that I’ll be the same in a relationship. That I’ll need both and can’t be faithful.”

“Did you explain to him that’s polyamory, not bisexuality?”

“He didn’t want to hear it and I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Are you sure?” I poked at him.

“Yes.”

“Really, really, really sure?” I teased. “We should stalk his Facebook page.”

“It probably says “fuck off” like everything else he has commentary on.” He turned me over and pulled me against him, made me the little spoon.

And I let him.

“Go to sleep.”

I lay quietly, but I didn’t go to sleep for a long time. I lay there thinking about my life. Where’d I’d been, where I was going, and where I wanted to be.

For the first time in a long time, there was a synchronicity there, an alignment.

It wasn’t that Ryan had a magic peen by any means, all of the transformation had happened pre-Ryan. He was just a mostly innocent bystander. Who gave good bean.

The only thing I was missing was Thornton.

I supposed that was an odd thing to say, lying there in another man’s arms. But I wanted to be with Ryan to prove it could be done, to prove that I could enjoy my body and someone else’s just for the sake of it. I did. It was wonderful. It was everything I thought it could be.

But I also knew that I wanted what I had with Thornton. I wanted it bad. The best thing about all of this was that if I didn’t get it, I wasn’t going to wither away and die. I always thought the worst thing that could happen to me would be to fall in love someone and lose them, have them leave me. No doubt, I would be riding the misery train for a while—I still might. It would take some doing on both of our parts to work this out, to trust each other.

Maybe it would end up like that Patty Smythe and Don Henley song: Sometimes Love Just Ain’t Enough. It would suck, to be sure. I had no illusions about that. But it all came down to the same thing—I learned to stop being afraid.