Chapter Thirteen
Pulse hammering,I retreated one step then another. But I was slow. The way Tor moved, that unhurried prowl of a predator stalking its prey, sent my pulse thundering, and heat flooded my body. My brain was saying no when my body was saying yes. What did that say about me?
“I know you like it, Tor, but I don’t. Letting one man lick me when I was dating another made me feel cheap.”
“You are not cheap. You are smart and beautiful.” He kept moving toward me, and I kept retreating.
“Tor, please. This isn’t about what you feel for me or what I feel for you. This is about what I feel for myself. And if you keep pressing, it’s going to fill me with more doubt and self-loathing over the mess I’ve already made of things.”
He stopped and blinked at me.
“Self-loathing? Why do you hate yourself?”
I struggled to find the words to describe what I was feeling. How wrong it was to feel any attraction to him after only a few short days.
“It’s not okay for a woman to jump from one man to the next.”
“Why? Adam does not want you. I do.”
“Ouch.”
He frowned.
“What hurts?”
“The reminder that Adam doesn’t want me anymore, Tor. I know this is all new to you. Can you please just be my friend for a while? I need time to let my heart heal and to make sure I’m ready. It hurts when you’re wrong about someone. I don’t want to hurt you like Adam hurt me.”
He took another step toward me, and I quickly retreated. He sighed and tugged at his ear, showing his frustration.
“Come here, June. I wish to give you a hug of affection and friendship.”
“Less touching would be better for a while.”
“I like touching you.”
My heart gave another squeeze, and I wished he wasn’t making this so hard.
“Honestly, I like it too, Tor. But do I like it because it’s you or because I’m hurt and want comfort from any source willing to give it? That’s something I need to know. Otherwise, I might only be leading you on. I need time. I need to make sure I’m myself. Whole. Do you understand?”
He paused, his frown deepening as he slowly nodded.
“Yes. I understand.” He looked up and met my gaze. “I will be your friend. When you want my touches again, you will tell me.”
“Thank you.”
He grunted and made his way back to the stove.
“Are you hungry? I made you oatmeal with strawberries.”
“That sounds really good.”
“It’s not. I’m sorry.”
The pity in his eyes when he passed the bowl to me was almost comical.
“I like oatmeal. Especially the kind with strawberries.”
He made a face, and I relaxed a little more. The knock on the front door defused any remaining tension.