My voice is a little colder than I intend when I ask, “Will fucking me keep you alive? Sure, for now it will.”
She flinches, her face flushing. “That’s not what I meant.”
I don’t have the patience for it, so I clip, “Sure it is. You don’t have to lie. I understand.”
“No,” she insists, turning on her side and moving closer to me. “That’s not… It sounds horrible when you say it like that. That wasn’t what I meant. It sounds like I’m using…”
I fill in the blank for her. “Using your body to stay alive? Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you? That’s just good sense.”
“Everything you’re saying is awful,” she states.
“Reality often—”
Before I can finish my cynical statement, a cloud of coconut aroma drifts my way and Mia surprises the hell out of me, pressing her bare chest against mine and cutting me off with a kiss.
It does effectively shut me up. Something in my chest doesn’t work quite right—there’s a flood of surprise. A flood of pleasure. I can’t resist kissing her back, even if it’s an apology kiss. Especially if it’s an apology kiss. She certainly doesn’t owe me any kind of apology. Even if she blatantly stated she was using her body to stay alive, how could I possibly fault her for that? Her position is precarious and she’ll do what she has to in order to survive. People use each other for far worse reasons. That’s humanity.
But she tries to make amends, even though she’s not at fault. She feels guilty at the thought of having wounded me, even though I more than deserve it.
Her soft, sweet kisses are the opposite of every cynical thought I was just having. There’s no selfishness here. She’s not trying to smooth down the feathers of her ruffled meal ticket; she’s just trying to say she’s sorry if she hurt my feelings.
God, she is something else.
I’ll have to tuck this knowledge away for future use. I wouldn’t cash in on this often, but it’s good to know I can play the wounded card and her soft little heart will cave right in.
Once she has adequately made her amends, Mia snuggles up against my side, casting me a tentative look to see if her offering was sufficient.
I lean in and drop a brief kiss on her lips to let her know it was.
She smiles up at me, somehow lighter, like it would have weighed on her if she hadn’t been able to fix it. It’s difficult not to note and file away each one of these weaknesses to use against her later. I don’t really want to do that; I just can’t help my instincts, telling me I can run right over her. She’s so goddamn easy to take advantage of, with her big heart and forgiving nature.
I’m unsettled. My chest feels tight—almost like indigestion, only I haven’t eaten anything. Not even her.
That’s a damned shame.
I need to get on that soon. It’s been far too long since I last tasted her.
For now, it’s enough to wrap my arm around her, pull her against my body, and feel her nestle into me. Like last night, she doesn’t wait to unconsciously cuddle me—she chooses to.
I lie awake as she drifts back to sleep.
I don’t deserve her kindness. I know that. I don’t know why she offers it. Even if she wanted to make the best of a bad situation, even if she could stomach fucking me after I outright raped her, there’s no reason for her to be so nice to me. There’s no reason for her to feel guilt at the prospect of hurting my feelings. Just a minute before, I used her body so roughly I might have hurt her.
She’s sweet. I’m sure it’s because she’s young—certainly younger than I would’ve picked out for myself. If I let her live, life would change her, season her with the dirty reality of people, harden all her softness. She would learn to protect herself and worry less about other people.
The sound of my alarm fills me with a foreign sense of dread.
I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to leave my bed. I want to stay right here and enjoy holding Mia while she sleeps. I want to see what she does with her day when she wakes up.
It occurs to me that I can. It’s not what I usually do on a Saturday, but what the hell? I never take days off.
I ease over to grab my phone off the nightstand. The screen lights up and I glance at Mia to make sure she’s still asleep. She is, so I type out my message to Adrian.
“Not going to make it to the gym this morning. Won’t need you to guard Mia, either.”
Not a minute later, he shoots back, “Why? What’s wrong?”