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Moisture tracked along my cheeks. I said his name again, unable to put my thoughts in the right order.

“Are you happy, Cela?” he asked again, his own voice knotted with emotion now. “That’s all I need to know.”

I leaned forward, letting my forehead press to his. Everything felt so heavy all of a sudden—the move, my job, leaving Foster, dating again, trying to figure out what the hell I wanted out of my life. I wanted to curl in a ball and be back in my dorm freshman year when everything was simple and laid out and obvious. All possibility. No reality. “I don’t know what I am anymore. I’m lost.”

“Oh, angel,” he said softly. “I know what you mean.”

I pulled back and rested against my seat, the nearness of him too much to take for my wrung-out system. All I wanted to do was crawl into his lap and let him tell me everything was going to be okay. And that was exactly what always freaked me out with Foster. I didn’t want to be weak and need someone else like that. “I’m scared of how I feel when I’m with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did I ever tell you that my mom used to be a painter?”

He shook his head, leaning back in his own seat, giving me space.

“She was. She had a lot of talent and even got a scholarship to a school in New York. But she was already dating my dad, and he had a full ride to UT in Austin. She couldn’t get into the university because, though she was a brilliant artist, she sucked at things like math and science and didn’t have high enough scores. So she just gave it up for him, got a receptionist job in Austin and dedicated her life to being his wife. And they love each other, I know that. But she isn’t her own person anymore. He makes the decisions. She follows them. I know it tore her to pieces when he kicked my sister out, and she didn’t stand up to him. She didn’t stand up for her own daughter. I love her with all my heart, but I cannot become her.”

Foster’s mouth curved downward. “Baby, I hear what you’re saying, but you have to realize that you are so far from being at risk of that happening, it’s not even funny. You are tough and independent and hardheaded.”

“But when I’m with you, all I want to do is give in,” I fired back. “I fall to my knees willingly, I step past lines I never would’ve considered walking over, and I have this thing, this desire to please you, that scares the living shit out of me. I haven’t gone a day without thinking about you, Foster. And tonight, even after I told Mike not to walk me out, I found myself annoyed that he didn’t. I missed your crazy overprotectiveness. How messed up is that?”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Did you just say you missed my crazy?”

I stared at him for a long second and then laughed some weird, tear-clogged laugh. I put my hands over my face. “Goddammit. I do miss it. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Cela,” he said, tugging one of my hands away from my face. “There’s nothing wrong with you. All of that stuff doesn’t mean you want to turn into some robot wife. You have a submissive side to you—a beautiful, dead-sexy desire to please. But the only time that’s dangerous or wrong is if you put it in the hands of someone who is going to exploit it. I would never want to change you or get in the way of your career or dreams. And it’s okay to want to be taken care of or protected sometimes. No one should have to take on the world all alone all the time.”

I looked at him. How many times had I imagined his face these last few weeks? How many times when I’d curled up at night had I wished he were there next to me? And though I liked Mike, I knew in my gut it was only friendship. When he’d kissed me tonight, there’d been none of that fire that was there when Foster simply brushed his lips over mine. Even just sitting here in the car with him had this hum of electricity moving through me.

But there was so much to think about, so many decisions already made. My job was here, my dad was counting on me. I had a house now. And Foster had said it himself, he was who he was. I either had to embrace his personality and dominance fully and accept what that brought out in me, or it’d never work.

I reached out and took his hand. “I don’t know if I’m going to have all the answers for you tonight. All I can offer you is honesty.”

“That’s all I’m asking, angel,” he said, lacing his fingers with mine.

“I’ve missed you so much, I can barely breathe through it sometimes,” I admitted. “When I lie in bed at night, it’s you who’s on my mind. And I’m wearing this anklet because I wanted to feel close to you again, and I can’t seem to take it off.”

He closed his eyes, his chest expanding with a deep breath, and brought my hand up to his mouth, brushing his lips over our entwined knuckles.

“And I’m not unhappy, but I’m not happy either. I haven’t been happy since that last morning I woke up next to you.”

His gaze met mine, naked emotion swirling in those blue depths. “Ditto.”

“And there’s a lot we need to talk about and consider. But it’s late, and it’s already been a long night for us both.”

He sighed, his expression turning resigned, and let go of my hand. “Right. Plus, I’m sure if I don’t take you home in the next ten minutes, your dad will probably send out a search party. Last thing I want is to cause you more trouble with him.”

Foster lifted his arm to turn the key, but I put my hand over his, stopping him. “I don’t want to talk anymore tonight. But I don’t want to go home either.”

He turned his head, brows knitted. “What?”

I wet my lips, the yearning that’d been building over all these weeks filling every pore of my body. I knew it probably wasn’t fair to ask, but I was done overanalyzing things tonight. Even if I didn’t know what the future would look like, right now I needed this. Him. “I don’t want either of us to face the world alone tonight, Foster. Let me stay with you.”

Awareness flickered over his features, like streetlamps blinking on, and I saw my own yearning reflected back in him. He gave a quiet assent and turned the ignition.

Tonight, we wouldn’t be alone.

THIRTY-SEVEN


Tags: Roni Loren Loving on the Edge Erotic