He’s ranting at this point, and I never know what to do when he gets this way—furious about a system that he thinks is unjust but unwilling to sacrifice what good is in place to break out of it. I’m not sure if he’s angrier at himself for following the rules or the rules themselves.
“YA is everything to me, Colin. Javi built it from nothing. And those kids… they’re—they’ve been what I wake up for in the mornings. For years. Helping with them—giving them something I didn’t ever have—it’s—Colin, it’s the only decent thing I’ve ever done. I can’t fucking lose that.”
Rafe looks wrecked and it’s my fault. It doesn’t matter what my intentions were. I fucked up. Most of all, I hate that Rafe is disappointed in me. So I just stand like an idiot in the middle of my living room.
Rafe walks over to me and puts his hands on my shoulders. With his expression tense, the fine lines around his eyes are more visible and the crease between his brows is deep. His lower lip is rough, like he’s been biting at it.
“You can’t do that again. Okay? You can’t be alone with any of the kids outside of the workshops. No matter how much you want to help. I… believe me, I get it. But it’s too easy for everything to go wrong. Please.” He looks so tired. “Please, babe.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” I say. “I thought… I thought I was helping. I wanted—I just hated seeing him so upset.” And, yeah, there was the fact that he came to me. That, despite having made a mess of this stuff in my own life, he actually thought maybe I’d have some answers. It felt so good to have someone see me that way. And it’s quite a contrast to how Rafe’s looking at me now. With fondness, maybe, but mostly like I’m a liability. A fuckup. Like he gave me something precious and I smashed it.
Like I can’t be trusted with anything real.
After sitting in strained silence for an hour, watching a movie about some dude in a small town who turns out to be part of the mafia or something, I’m ready to scream. It would’ve been easier if Rafe had just left, but apparently he didn’t get the memo that it’s awkward to hang out after fighting with someone.
And then, yeah, my stupid breathing thing starts. I’m just about to get up and go into the kitchen to quietly freak out when I notice that Rafe’s watching me. It feels like I’m cheating because I know he can’t just sit there and not try and help me. My fucked-up-ness is his damned kryptonite.
He lets out a big sigh and then his hand is on the back of my neck and I close my eyes and try to concentrate on his touch.
“We’re okay,” he says, but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.
“Yeah? Well, it feels like shit.”
Rafe sighs. “Yeah. Look, I can’t condone what you did—it’s too dangerous. But I like why you did it. I like that you were trying to help. You’re fucking fierce. I like that.”
“Thought you liked sweet,” I mutter.
“Mmm. Oh, Colin. You’re sweet as hell.”
“Yeah right.”
“Kiss me,” he says softly, a peace offering.
I huff and grudgingly peck him on the lips. He snorts and pulls me closer, kissing me deeper.
“There, see?” he murmurs. “Sweet.”
I push off his chest and roll my eyes at him.
Rafe’s expression turns serious and he moves in and kisses me again. He kisses me like he really does think I’m sweet. As if he has nothing else to do but kiss me.
“I missed you this week,” he says, kissing my neck.
“Oh, now you want to be sweet too, huh?”
He puts on a who-me? expression. “I missed being here with you.” He kisses my shoulder. “I missed eating dinner with you and falling asleep with you.” He kisses my chin. “I like it here.”
“So you’re just using me for my house.”
Rafe nods. “Yeah, and your cat.”
“Damn cat,” I mutter, looking over at her, and one of Shelby’s little ears perks up like she knows we’re talking about her.
In bed, we kiss until we’re both desperate and pulling at each other’s clothes, as if we can ease the tension with our bodies. Rafe strips his underwear off and we both grab for our dicks at the same time. We kiss hard and deep, and it pushes my head into the pillow so there’s only softness beneath me and Rafe’s hardness on top of me.
I press my hips up into his, wanting somehow to be on top of him and underneath him, inside him and around him all at the same time. Rafe groans, sliding his other hand under my thigh to grab my ass, and squeezes, holding us tightly together. He pushes my hand off of us and I call him bossy and he grins, slowing his strokes and kissing me silent, our bodies rocking together as his hand controls our pleasure.