“I wanna get to know you. You’ve gotta wanna do something after 2 years there and the last several days locked up in here.”
“I’d like to know you, too. What do you like to do?”
I gave her an exasperated look.
“I don’t know me right now, Dare. The things I used to do for fun…that feels a million years ago. How about we get to know you first? Please?”
“What do you think about therapy? Do you think it might help?”
She shrugged, “I can’t say. I don’t know.”
“Would you be interested in trying? It could help.”
She studied me for a minute and then nodded slowly, “For you, yes, anything.”
I caressed her face, trying to push away worries that she could pull away from me as she starts to heal.
“Let’s get dressed and get outta here. We’ll go for pancakes, take a walk and see where we end up. I’ve just gotta send a few quick emails.”
“Can we go feed the ducks at that pond across the road?”
“Sure.”
I joined her in the shower after dragging her trunk over. That was it, I was done playing. Done waffling. The alternative, putting her in the spare room or in the apartment down the hall? No. I’d be in there every night carrying her back to my bed. It was pointless to keep fighting it. Fighting it was taking too much of my energy and headspace and that energy and headspace could be put to much better use by using it to deal with Kruna and the other loose ends left by my Pop.
When I climbed in the shower with her she’d spun around looking startled.
“Water conservation,” I said, matter-of-factly, and then grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close.
I kissed her, we washed each other’s backs, and then after washing ourselves got out and got dressed. It was pretty obvious by how she looked at me and how long she took washing my back that she wanted sex in the shower but I wanted to let some anticipation build for a bit and get her outta the house. If I started with her in the shower I’d be in bed with her all day.
“The trunk isn’t in there,” she said.
“It’s in there.” I was rubbing my head with a towel. I motioned to my closet. She stared at the closet door and then looked at me, confused.
“You wanna be mine?” I asked.
She nodded hesitantly, “I am yours. For as long as you want me.”
“Then you’re in here with me,” I said. I tossed the towel and slicked my hair back with my fingers.
She teared up.
I walked over to her and held her close, “I don’t know that this isn’t wrong, baby, but it feels like I have no choice.”
“What do you mean?” She sounded crestfallen.
“I’m tired of fighting with myself over this. It feels like a losing battle. You and me have stuff to figure out but we’ll figure it out as we go. I don’t know where this is going with us but I’m choosing to do the wrong thing here and see where it takes us.”
“Dare,” she whispered, “this feels so not wrong I can’t even explain.”
I nodded, getting her, totally getting her.
“And that’s why I’m all in, baby.” She melded into my body, putting her arms around me, “Unpack your stuff in there, make room for it. But do it tomorrow. Right now, let’s go get you some pancakes.”
Debbie never felt like this. She never felt like she was truly mine. Angel felt like she was mine. Could’ve been because she was so willing to be mine. Or maybe it was because lying there with her in my arms the previous night I decided I was just going to take her, fuck the consequences.
She held her emotion in check. I got the impression that was hard for her, that she was happy, that she wanted to show it but she was deferring to me. I wanted to get her out of the apartment for a bit. We got dressed in jeans and tees and hoodies and went for pancakes.