by Kate Hewitt
“But if it isn’t?” Nora said quietly. “We need to do something.”
“Like call the police,” Louise answered. She could see the kind of determined gleam in Nora’s eyes that she’d once seen in Harlow’s. “That’s all we can do,” she added, and neither Nora nor Addison replied.
As soon as the two young women had left, Louise took the photograph over to Jaiven’s. She thought about sending it to him by messenger service, even his own, but she wanted to see him.
She’d had fun last night, but she’d wished she’d had the courage and confidence to ask him if she could stay. To make love with him. Banish both her fears and her ghosts.
She didn’t know when or how that was going to happen, but she did know she needed to see him again and reassure herself that things were okay between them.
Sighing, she grabbed her jacket and headed outside. She took a cab to his head office in the Bronx, admiring the gleaming tower of glass and steel that rose high above the surrounding brownstones and tenements.
“Do you have an appointment?” The receptionist at the front desk asked, elegant eyebrows raised.
“No, but I think he’ll see me. Could you just call…?”
The woman pursed her lips as she swept Louise with a skeptical gaze.
Nice, Louise thought as she folded her arms and tried not to feel like an impostor. I really am Jaiven Rodriguez’s girlfriend.
At least, she hoped she was.
“Mr. Rodriguez will see you,” the woman said as she hung up the phone. “Top floor.”
Jaiven was waiting for her as she stepped out of the elevator. He pulled her into his arms, brushed the top of her head with a kiss.
“This is a nice surprise,” he murmured, and Louise’s insides tightened with both longing and relief. Why was she overcomplicating things? It could be so easy.
“I’m glad you think so,” she said. “Can we go somewhere private?”
“Absolutely,” he assured her with a teasingly wicked grin, and she smiled back as she followed him into his huge office, floor-to-ceiling windows giving a panoramic view of the city.
Once they were alone he kissed her softly and then just held her.
“I wish I’d stayed last night,” she whispered against the lapel of his jacket.
“It’s okay.”
She eased back to give him a wobbly smile. “Thank you for being patient. You’re a good man, Jaiven Rodriguez.”
Her words didn’t have the effect she expected. Something flashed across his face, something painful, his features contorting, before everything smoothed out. “I’m glad you think so,” he answered, and kissed her again.
A few enjoyable seconds later, Louise slipped out of his embrace and handed him the photo.
“That’s Harlow,” she said. “In the middle.”
His eyes narrowed as he studied it, and for a moment Louise was able to watch him unguardedly. Drink him in, because he was such a beautiful man. The lean, hard jaw. The amber eyes. The tattoo. She loved everything about him, loved the kindness and gentleness she knew hid underneath that tough exterior.
Loved…
Did she love him? Surely it was too soon to be thinking about that big L-word. They were still taking the first few baby steps of a relationship. And yet she’d told him more about her life, about her fears and her shame, than she had anyone else. She’d certainly had more mind-blowing sex with him than with anyone else. And she’d laughed and had fun with him more than with anyone else.
“I’ll push the guys in charge of the CCTV cameras,” he said, looking up from the photo. Louise just blinked. Her mind had snagged and stuck on love.
Did she love him? Even without knowing everything about him, whatever he was hiding?
“We should know something in the next few days.” He peered at her, his eyes narrowing. “Louise?”
“Umm. Yeah.” She nodded, mechanically. “Great. Thank you.”
He frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yes…” Her voice trailed away as she stared at him helplessly.
And Jaiven must have mistaken her expression—or the reason for it—because his own expression closed up and he gave one short nod. “Fine.”
She felt his emotional withdrawal like a physical thing and didn’t know how to stop it. Her heart was racing and her mind felt fuzzy.
She couldn’t love him. It was too soon. Too much. Too scary. And what if she could never let go and learn to trust him again, even when she loved him? Ironic, really, if after all the fantasy sex they’d had she couldn’t make a loving relationship work on a sexual level.
“Jaiven…” she said, wanting to reach him before he closed himself off completely, but she had no idea what to say. Admitting she might love him was terrifying, and probably not the right move at this point.
“You should go. I’m sure you have work to do.”
Trying not to feel stung, she nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll see you later.”
Later, rather than tonight. A specific time. “Okay,” she said again, and started toward the door. She turned back to him, her hand on the knob, everything in her so uncertain. “Jaiven…we’re okay, aren’t we?”
He stilled, his eyebrows rising, and then he smiled. “Of course we are,” he said, and Louise nodded automatically. His smile, she’d noticed, hadn’t reached his eyes.
*
You’re a good man, Jaiven Rodriguez.
No, he damn well wasn’t. With every day, every minute that he kept his past from her, Jaiven felt the guilt and fear churn in his stomach, threaten to overwhelm him. He had to tell her. He was afraid to tell her.
Afraid of Louise realizing he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was, and never had been. Not even close.
Swallowing hard, Jaiven raked his hands through his hair. He couldn’t keep the truth from Louise forever, he knew. The longer he did, the bigger a secret it became. And if she did walk away from him, better now than later, when he really cared about her. When he loved her.
Too late for that.
With a jolt Jaiven realized the truth. He loved her. He’d loved her for a while, loved her strength and spirit and sass. Loved who he was when he was with her—except was that man even real?
Or was he still the screwed-up ex-con who’d made way too many bad choices? Choices that had left a woman dead.
He dropped his hands and stared bleakly out the window at the view of the Bronx River, the skyscrapers of Manhattan piercing a gray sky. There was, he knew, only one way to find out.
*
For the next two weeks Louise enjoyed Jaiven’s company every evening, eating takeout, talking and teasing, and going home in a cab by eleven. She felt like a teenager.
She wanted to stay; she was afraid to stay. At first she’d thought Jaiven sensed that, and so he sent her home. He was making it easy for her.
Yet with each evening that passed, and each lonely night, she realized this wasn’t just about her and her stupid hang-ups. It was about Jaiven.
He was keeping something from her, something big. She could feel it in the way he eased back after a kiss, the way his gaze slid from hers at surprising moments. The way he kept it light but she saw darkness in his eyes. Felt it—and was afraid.
Was he having second thoughts? Wishing he’d stuck with fantasy instead of trying for real? Or was this about the thing he hadn’t told her, the secret from his past that still tormented him?
She thought about pushing for him to tell her, and knew she could probably force a confrontation. But with everything else they were dealing with, she didn’t have the courage or the emotional energy. So she’d told herself she’d wait, and Jaiven would tell her whatever it was, just as he’d said he would.
But if he didn’t, what were they playing at? What was really going on here if they were both hiding from their fears?
Fears…
That’s when it clicked. Jaiven was afraid, just as she was. Yet afraid of what? Of letting her down? Of hurting
her? Of having her reject him as Emily had?
She needed to trust him, Louise realized, for his sake as much as her own. They both needed to get past this—somehow.
Maybe slow and steady didn’t always win the race. You didn’t inch your way out of hell.
Maybe she needed to push past her comfort zone, and Jaiven did, too. Maybe they needed to face their fears head-on, and conquer them forever.
But how?
Chapter Fourteen
IT HAD SEEMED like a good idea on the way over. By the time she got to the Bronx, though, Louise was feeling distinctly nervous. Kind of terrified, actually, but also surprisingly excited. Even a little turned on.
Jaiven’s lights were on, though it was after eleven, and with a deep breath she paid the cabbie, headed up the stairs to Jaiven’s front door and knocked.
“Louise?” He opened the door, rumple-haired and slack-jawed. Adorable and sexy all at the same time.
“Hey. Sorry to come over so late.”
“I’m thrilled.” He gave her a crooked smile even though she could see how the expression in his eyes was veiled. With one hand he drew her inside. “What’s up?”
“I have this idea, and I need you to go with it.” She gave him an overbright smile and Jaiven’s forehead furrowed.
“Okay,” he answered. “Why don’t you come upstairs?”
He led her into the living room, asked if she wanted a drink, but Louise was too keyed up for the niceties. “Look, Jaiven, I appreciate you wanting to go slowly with me. I really, really do. But I’m also kind of tired of slow. I know myself, and I know I need to be pushed into some things. Otherwise I’d just stay safe, hiding in my bedroom, watching TV and marking essays.”
His frown deepened but he nodded. “Okay.”
“The thing is, I think you might need the same thing. A little push.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve been obsessing about our—our relationship, if that’s what we’re in.”
“Of course we’re in a relationship.”
“Oh. Okay.” Phew. “But we’re not sleeping together. I mean, you know, sex.”
“I know what you mean, Louise.” He folded his arms. “And I told you before, we don’t need to rush it. I want you to feel safe with me.”
She swallowed, her heart starting to pound. “I do feel safe with you, Jaiven.”
His face settled into implacable lines. “Are you sure about that?”
So she’d been right. Vindication was sweet but also scary. “Are you?” she countered quietly. “Because it occurred to me a little while ago, that this—this stasis might be as much about you as about me. That we’re both afraid.”
“Afraid?” He shook his head but he looked wary. “I’m not the one who’s afraid.”
“Are you sure about that?” Louise asked softly. She took a deep breath and made herself continue. “I’ll admit it, Jaiven. I’m afraid. I’m afraid of having real sex with you, not just the fantasy kind where I can hide behind the fun. I’m afraid of feeling scared, which doesn’t make sense, maybe, but still is. I’m afraid when you’re touching me, when you’re inside me, I’ll remember things I don’t want to remember. Not just about you, but about my ex-husband. About the way he made me feel.”
Jaiven flinched and averted his face. “I don’t need to hear this, Louise.”
“I think you do. This is the real me, Jaiven, and most of all I’m afraid you’ll reject me because I’m too much work. Too messed up.”
His face contorted and he took a step toward her. “I won’t.”
“I’ve still got the fear. And I think you do, too.”
“I told you, I’m not—”
“Afraid. Yeah, okay, I heard you. But you know what?” She gave him a trembling smile; his face was like granite. “I think you’re full of shit, Jaiven Rodriguez.”
To her surprise his mouth quirked up in a tiny smile. “Oh, you do, do you?”
“Yes. I also think you’re scared shitless.”
“So I’m full of shit and shitless all at the same time?”
She let out a brief laugh. “Yeah, you are. I think you’re afraid of hurting me. Or of me hurting you, by not trusting you. By not accepting you. I think you’re afraid I won’t feel safe with you, and we won’t be able to go back from that.”
His face darkened, all signs of a smile gone. “And what if we can’t?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, and her voice wobbled. “I honestly don’t know. But we’ve got to try, Jaiven. We’ve both got to try.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I thought that’s what we were doing.”
“Well, maybe, but I think we need to try harder.” She took a breath, a faint flush rising on her cheeks. “And since we started with fantasy sex, I thought it made sense to go back there.”
Jaiven shifted his weight, his expression disbelieving. “You think so?”
“Yeah. And I’ve got this fantasy.” She took a step toward him. “A fantasy of being totally exposed and vulnerable. Of giving up control.”
“That does not sound like your kind of fantasy, Louise.”
“But see, it is. I know, I know, maybe it seems counterintuitive, but I’ve been clawing back control for so much of my life, Jaiven. If I’m not in control, I feel weak and panicky and scared. But I want to be with someone who keeps me safe. Who cherishes me. Who lets me let go of control because I can. Because I don’t have to protect myself.” She took a step closer to him, and laid a hand on his heart. “I want to be with you.”
“I want to be with you,” he whispered. His face darkened, his mouth twisting, a torment in his eyes. “I want you to feel safe with me. To feel…loved with me.”
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back rapidly. “I want that more than anything in the world.”
He gave her a shaky smile. “So how do we make it happen?”
Louise took a deep breath, tried for a smile. “Do you remember what you said about silk scarves?” she asked, and Jaiven just stared at her for a second, nonplussed.
“Scarves…”
“Yeah, scarves.” She reached for the few she’d brought in her bag. “Easier on the wrists, you said.”
Jaiven eyed the scarves, a tiny smile quirking the corner of his mouth. “You want to tie me up? I suppose I could get on board with that.”
“I bet you could. But no, I don’t want to tie you up.” She took a deep breath and held out the scarves. “I want you to tie me up.”
*
Jaiven jerked back as shock burned through him.
“What? No.” He spoke flatly, definitively, and Louise cocked her head.
“You have a problem with my fantasy, Jaiven?”
“Damn right I do, Louise. You have a history of abuse.”
“Oh, so my fantasy life is restricted by my history?”
“Be reasonable—”
“I’m sick of reasonable. I’m sick of my history. It’s choking me. Killing me. I don’t want to be bound by it anymore.”
“And yet you want to be tied up.”
“I want to be completely open and vulnerable and safe with you. That’s what this is about. Empowerment comes in all kinds of forms, Jaiven. And you need this as much as I do. You need me to trust you. You need me to feel safe with you.”
“This isn’t the way to go about it,” he bit out, and she eyed him curiously.
“Why are you reacting so strongly against this? Is it because you’re afraid?”
Hell, yes. He was afraid of her trust. Afraid she’d give him everything and he’d wreck it, because that’s what he did. That’s what he’d always done. He took a deep breath. “I just don’t think this is the way to go about—”
“So, what, we neck on the sofa for a couple of more months and then one night I just magically decide that it’s time to sleep with you again?”
“Well, yeah,” he answered, shifting his weight. “That sounds about right.”
“That sounds ab
out nothing. We’d be eighty years old and you’d have to take a bottle of Viagra before I was ready if we did it that way.”
“Hey, I still plan to be going strong when I’m eighty.”
She smiled then, a smile so full of love and trust that Jaiven felt guilt twisting his soul. She wanted to trust him, and yet she didn’t know what he was really like.
“I bet you will be. But I need to be forced out of my comfort zone, Jaiven. I need to be pushed. And that’s what I’m doing here. I’m pushing myself, and I need you to come along. Please, Jaiven, do this for me. For us.”
Jaiven felt as if the breath had been sucked from his lungs. “Well,” he managed after a moment, “you’re not asking for very much.”
“I’m asking you to give me the opportunity to trust you.”
“And if I push some button of yours without knowing it? Some trigger? What, then?” he demanded, his voice turning raw, as if it had been torn from his body. “Shit, Louise, this could make things even worse. Give us even worse memories to recover from.” He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her again, even unintentionally.
“It won’t,” she said, but he knew she couldn’t know that. He couldn’t know that. “Please.”
Still Jaiven didn’t take the scarves. The responsibility of making sure she felt not only safe but treasured felt like way too much. He couldn’t be trusted with that. He couldn’t be trusted at all.
“I can’t…” he began, and then stopped. Because he knew if Louise needed him to do this, he’d do it. He couldn’t say no to her, not about anything. “Okay,” he said, and held out his hand.
She gave him the scarves, and though they were slippery, silky and as light as air, he felt as if she’d handed him a thousand-pound weight.
He had no idea what to do. He had hundreds of sexual encounters under his belt and right now he felt totally lost.
“I know I made some joke about these things,” he told her, “but I haven’t actually done this before. I’ve been more of a vanilla sex guy than you probably think.”
She let out a little laugh. “Sex with you has never been vanilla, Jaiven.”