“You’re not in here exercising because of that bullshit your mother said about you putting on weight are you, because—”
“No. No.” She shook her head. “I mean, it hurts, I won’t lie. When she says things about how I look or dress or act. No matter how I try to block it, it always hurts.”
He got up and grabbed her a bottle of electrolyte and a protein bar that was kept in the fridge. “I want you to eat all of this and drink that water.”
She unwrapped the bar. “I learned that I can’t let them see how they affect me. It makes it all worse. When I’m unsure or scared or angry, I just kind of shut down. That’s what happened earlier.”
He nodded and pulled her onto his lap.
“Bain, I’m all sweaty and smelly.”
“I’ll give you a bath soon.”
He would give her a bath? What did that mean exactly?
“I should have asked you to leave us. You shouldn’t have to put up with them insulting you.”
He cupped her chin, raising her face. “Your job ain’t to protect me, angel.”
“But it is. Because I love you. I know I’m probably meant to wait a prescribed amount of time before I tell you that. I know you might not feel the same and you don’t have to say anything—”
Her words were cut off as he pressed his lips against hers. His kiss stole her breath, her ability to think as he ravaged her mouth. He took full control, kissing her until she was mush in his arms. Then he drew back to look down at her, his eyes blazing with lust and need.
And something else. Something deeper.
“Arianna, I—”
“Bain, you really don’t have to—”
“Shut up,” he told her fiercely. Her eyes widened. He’d never told her to shut up and maybe she should be offended. But there was something in his voice, in the intense look on his face. “Don’t give a shit about what is normal or correct. I fucking love you too. Probably have from the moment I found you under your damn desk, hiding from me.”
“Not my finest moment.”
“Don’t like you hiding from me. Not physically or emotionally. We’re going to work hard to make sure you don’t do that, got me?”
He brushed back her hair. “You don’t need to hide anything from me. Because I can take all that you are. Not going anywhere. Never gonna be embarrassed by you. Or try to change you. Sometimes it would be easier if you were instantly obedient, but it’s not like I’m ever gonna get my wish on that.”
She snorted. “You like me challenging you.”
“As long as you know that I’m always going to follow through with consequences if you risk yourself. Put yourself in danger and you’re going over my knee.”
“I know,” she whispered. “Whenever I did something wrong, my parents would ignore me. Even more so than before. That was aft
er a lecture on how much I disappointed and shamed them with my weirdness.” She clenched her hands together. “When they finally noticed me, I was so happy that I did anything they wanted. Including taking my career places I didn’t want to go. All in the name of more money. For them.”
“You support them, don’t you?”
She sighed. “Yeah. When we were growing up, we lived in this big, flashy mansion. It had columns and a sweeping drive. Very Scarlett O’Hara. My parents had lots of parties, people over, they had the best of everything. My father lost it all. Lost all their money. We had to sell that house and move. I didn’t care. But they did. My brother had left for college by then. I think my sister was in her last year of school. There was no money for tutors, so I had to go to school. It was terrifying. I’d never been around kids other than my siblings, Caleb and the staff’s kids. Funny, I forgot about Jerome until Gabrielle just mentioned him. But I was young when his mother was fired and left.”
He ran his hand up and down her back and she snuggled into him.
“I thought school would be better than being stuck at home, but it wasn’t. I spent most of my time trying to just figure out what the hell was going on.” She shuddered. “I was bullied because I was quiet. I was just anxious about saying the wrong thing. I knew the consequences of speaking up when I shouldn’t. But the one good thing was music class. My music teacher seemed so gruff and ancient, but he was very kind. When he heard me sing, he encouraged me to join the choir. He would let me sneak into the music room at lunchtime and practice the guitar. It was the only thing that got me through. Until the night of the concert for choir. I was freaking out. I didn’t think I could do it. My parents didn’t even come.”
“Bastards.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t much care. I got up there and I did it for my music teachers. Someone loaded a video of me singing online and it took off. I guess my parents even heard about it.”
“And they decided you were their cash cow.”