I carry her up to my room and lie on the bed with her wrapped around me. Just like the last time she had a panic attack, she is calmed by my presence, and I hold her.
As I rub my hands along her body, I feel wetness and pull back from her, but she burrows in closer.
“Spitfire, I need to check you over. I think you’re bleeding.” She nods against my chest. For some reason calling her by her name only took her deeper into her panic attack, but my nickname for her brought her out.
“I-I’m so sorry I embarrassed you,” she says so quietly I barely hear her.
“You didn’t embarrass me. What happened? What have you gone through, spitfire?” I ask as I pull away and turn on the bedside light. I move to the bathroom and wet down a washcloth. When I step back into the room, she’s sitting up in the bed, her skirt still high up on her thighs, and I see her knees are bruised and bleeding. Carefully, I move across the room, not wanting to scare her. She flinches when the cloth first touches her abraded skin. I clean each knee and then lean down to kiss them. She flinches and looks up at me. “Will you talk to me?” I beg, but she shakes her head.
“I can’t right now. Please give me time.”
I lean over her body and pull her up by the back of her neck to my lips. Her soft lips open and I give her what she’s asking for. My tongue explores her mouth, and I move us without removing my lips from hers. Lying down with her, I pull her into me. I kiss her until we are both breathless. When I pull away, I roll her so her back is to my front and I hold her tightly. My chin on her shoulder.
“When I was deployed the last time, my unit was attacked. We were hit by RPGs that blew up the Humvees around us. Mine was flipped over. Shrapnel impaled my shoulder after I slammed into the door. I still flinch when I hear loud noises. That car backfiring startled me too.” I share a piece of myself in the hopes she will open up to me.
“I’m so sorry you went through that.” She pulls one of my hands up and kisses my palm softly. “I want to be with you. I want to try to make this work, but I’m so broken and afraid.”
“Afraid of what, baby?”
“Of you waking up one day and saying you can’t handle my fucked-up self. Of you not wanting to take on another man’s child,” she confesses.
I roll her so we are facing each other, then lift her chin so she’s looking at me.
“Sydney, I want you and Mari. I want to make this work, and we can be fucked up together.” I lean in and kiss her lips again as a knock sounds on the door. I move from the bed and open the door to Wes.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, we are good.”
“Okay.” He moves away and I look down the hall to where July is standing waiting. I nod at her.
I lie back down with Sydney in my arms and we fall asleep together with her wrapped around me.
When I wake the next morning, I feel her body against mine and let out a huge sigh of relief. I was worried I’d wake up to her being gone again.
“I didn’t run away,” she says sleepily. I lean down and kiss her forehead.
“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.” I start to pull her up from the bed but she pulls away from me.
“How many women have been in this bed with you and showered with you the next morning?”
Her question takes me by surprise for a moment, but then I see the determination in her eyes. She’s worried about this.
“Is that why you and Ginger were glaring at each other last night?” I chuckle as I sit down next to her on the bed. She moves away again, putting distance between us. I push her back and climb over the top of her. “First of all, I never slept with Ginger. I’m not a saint and I have had my share of women but never in this bed. And I never wanted them to stick around long enough to shower with me.”
“You went to their place?” she asks and bites her lip.
“Nope. I’d fuck them against a wall or in the courtyard.” She flinches. “I’d do it in a corner where no one could really see us.”
“I don’t do that.”
“I don’t want that with you. They were quick fucks to curb the urge. I want things with you. And one of those things is no other man seeing your beautiful body.” She looks down.
“I’m not beautiful. You’ve only seen some of my scars,” she says.
“To me you are the most beautiful angel I’ve ever seen. I don’t deserve someone like you, but I’m not letting any asshole get you but me,” I say, and she looks back up at me. “Now show me those scars and shower with me, baby. You’re dirty from crawling on the ground. Don’t get me wrong, I want to make love to you, but not yet. You still need time.”
“Okay.”