She licked her lips, which suddenly seemed dry. “Never mind.”
He peered at her closer. “No, I don’t think so. Because why?”
She wanted to tell him, to make him understand that she wasn’t deliberately trying to find fault. “Look, you know that I dated Mike Greer for a while, right? It’s just … that he…” Oh, for God’s sake. Years of therapy and she couldn’t even say it? She lifted her chin. “That he abused me.”
“Abused you,” Rick parroted, his gaze locked on her face. “Verbally?”
She nodded, just a little.
His voice took on a dangerous edge. “Physically?”
She swallowed. Nodded again.
“The bastard,” Rick said calmly. Too calmly. “The goddamn bastard.”
The fact that Rick was showing such control gave her the strength to tell him the truth. “There’s more, you see? Mike is an alcoholic. Whether or not he ever admitted it, I don’t know. But he had this way of looking absolutely charming to the world and then he’d start drinking and before I knew i
t he’d fly into a rage. Over nothing. A single glass in the sink and I was a terrible housekeeper. A thank-you to the guy behind the counter at the deli and I was a whore flirting with other men. He got very good at hitting me where it wouldn’t show and I got good at applying makeup and wearing turtlenecks and long sleeves.”
Rick’s mouth had gone tight, but Jess felt the floodgates open up. It was such a relief to tell someone after all this time—someone who wasn’t Josh. A friend.
“So you see, Rick, watching you go off the rails, watching you drink yourself stupid, and knowing that deep down you have so much rage at the world? That pretty much scares me to death.”
He didn’t come closer, but it felt like he had as he frowned. “So when you judge me, it’s because you’re afraid of me?”
“Afraid for you,” she corrected, reaching out and putting her hand on his arm. “I don’t want you to end up like that, okay? It’s not who you really are. You’re not Mike, but seeing your anger and your drinking, it brings back terrible memories for me.”
“Jesus, Jess…”
“Are you an alcoholic, Rick?”
He stood there, dumb, and she felt horrible for asking so bluntly but relieved, too, that it was all out in the open. “I am not trying to be cruel,” she said softly. “I saw you that day you came to work. You left the party after the wedding. I’m asking honestly. Because if you need help I want you to get it.”
She could see the struggle happening inside him. It was in the dark confusion in his eyes, the way he held himself stiffly beneath her touch. “I don’t know,” he whispered hoarsely. “I know I was drinking too much, but it had become my anaesthetic. I promised my mom, though. I promised her I would stop and I have. That morning I showed up at your place? I couldn’t sleep the night before. I wanted a drink so badly I would have done just about anything to get one. Instead I came down here and painted. I worked most of the night until the worst had passed. I didn’t get much sleep at all. I wasn’t hungover, Jess. I swear to you.”
His brutal honesty touched her, and without thinking she took one more step and put her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. She believed him. She really did.
His arms came around her and he lowered his chin to her hair, the stubble on his face tugging slightly on her curls. He was warm and solid and he’d just allowed himself to be the most vulnerable she’d ever seen him. His right hand cupped her head and stroked down her hair, just once, but it was enough to change the hug into something different. An awareness flowed between them. She noticed that his shirt was old and the fabric soft, that he was only a few inches taller than she was, which made their bodies mesh together quite conveniently. He smelled like that unique scent of clean laundry and men’s aftershave that women found impossible to resist, with the added afterthought of paint and solvent. Jess knew she should pull away, but she couldn’t. Not yet.
It felt too good. When had she last been touched like this? It was only an innocent hug but it was pure, devoid of agenda or anger.
“Jess,” he murmured in her ear, a warning.
She briefly recalled their dance at the wedding and how good it had been to be in his arms, even though he’d kept a respectable distance. Her head was telling her to run and not look back. But her heart wasn’t. Was she being an utter fool?
She pulled back enough that she could see his face. She had to tell him this was a mistake, that she’d been rash. Instead her gaze caught his and she couldn’t speak, couldn’t look away. His left arm held her close and his right hand cupped her head and then slowly, ever so gently, he ran the side of his thumb down her cheek, dropping his gaze to her lips.
His thumb rested on the side of her chin and she was mesmerized by the depths of his eyes, the slow fire burning there as he moved closer, closer …
Was she drifting in to meet him? Impossible. And yet her eyelids started to flutter closed and her stomach got that swirly, weightless feeling that a girl gets when a boy is about to kiss her.
The first touch of his mouth on hers was feather-light, testing. Jess held herself perfectly still. But Rick had to know she’d take some thawing, because he rubbed his lips persuasively over hers, taking little tastes that melted her resolve and dulled the voice in her head as her senses took over.
“Jess,” he said again, and the way he said it was with such wonderment that Jess’s heart took flight. She opened her lips, just a little, but it was all the encouragement he needed. He nudged and coaxed until she relaxed against him and met his tongue with her own.
And oh, mercy, it was amazing. She stopped thinking altogether and let herself feel, just this once. He tasted like sweet coffee and cinnamon and his hand slid into her hair. She ran her fingers over his shoulder blades, holding him close, until he pushed his weight forward just enough to make her take a step backward. Then another until they met with the storage cupboard and she could rest her weight against it.
And still they kissed, drinking their fill of each other and listening to the sound of their labored breathing in the narrow space.