I sighed. “Honestly, I’m still not sure this is for real. I never thought you’d choose to try a relationship.”
“There was never a choice, baby. I have to have you.”
“Because of the cravings. That’s just sex, Butch, and it’s not enough to keep a real relationship going. It’s just not.”
He pinned my gaze. “Every time the human touched you, every time he made you smile or laugh, it fucking hurt. My lungs would burn and my chest would ache. Every. Time. That doesn’t happen when it’s only about sex, Imani.”
No, it didn’t. And I hadn’t expected him to say that; I didn’t have a response for it.
“Stop.” His thumb tugged my lower lip free of my teeth. “You’re making me want to bite it, and that’s distracting. Now, tell me, are you fighting me so hard because you don’t want this…or because you do but you’re scared to take a chance on me?”
“I did take a chance on you.”
“And I fucked it up. I know that. And trust me when I say that no one regrets that more than I do. I tried to let you go. It didn’t work. It was never going to work, but I didn’t see that until it was too late. I drove you away, and for that I’m sorry. That shit won’t happen again.”
Searching his gaze, I saw only sincerity there. But it wasn’t enough. “I think you believe that. I think you want us to be together and that you want it to be a permanent thing. But I also think there’s a good chance that it won’t happen that way.”
“Explain.”
“We have some obstacles to deal with. If we got together, not a single person would support us in that. They’ll doubt that you’re serious about it for all the same reasons that I did. You have a bad rep. You like your emotional space. You’ve never shown any interest in relationships.”
“I know—”
“Just hear me out. A year ago, when I lasted more than one night with you, people were hopeful. Even though it seemed to be only casual sex, they thought that just maybe you’d pull your head out of your ass. They thought that just maybe you might take a shot at something more. But then the end of the month came, and you made it clear that we wanted different things. Let me again repeat that I’m not judging you for that—I never did. But they did. So it won’t matter what you say to them; you won’t convince them that you’re serious. They’ll figure that you’ll be gone once we hit the one-month mark.”
His hands flexed on my hips. “They’ll be wrong.”
“My point is that during that time, you can bet your ass that they won’t be cool about it. They won’t even consider giving you the benefit of the doubt. They’ll try to convince me to walk away. There’ll be a lot of tension. Is that what you want?”
“You’re more important to me than them. I don’t give a fuck if I have other people’s approval or not. I don’t need it. Eventually, they’ll see that they were wrong and that shit will be over.”
“Maybe, but that’s not the only obstacle we’ll be facing. My reflex to anyone pushing me is to completely disregard every word they’re saying, which will rub you the wrong way because you’re a naturally pushy person. Am I wrong?”
“No, which means I’ll have to work on not barking orders, and you’ll have to work on not doing the opposite just to be contrary.”
The guy had an answer for everything. “How about the fact that you don’t connect with people? You don’t share what’s going on in your head; you internalise everything, and you hide your emotions so damn well that most people think you don’t feel anything. This won’t work if you can’t be open with me. And I don’t want to be in a relationship where I’m having to read between the lines and guess what my partner is thinking. I need you to talk to me, to share with me, to be upfront with me. I’m not saying I want you to change, I don’t. I’m just saying I’d need you to work with me to keep this relationship going, and that means communicating.”
“I’ve been upfront about my feelings so far, haven’t I?”
Okay, he had a point there. “But could you keep doing that?”
“With you, yeah. Just don’t expect me to be like that with everybody else.”
“There’s something else that’s going to be an issue. I hate to say it—really, really hate to say it—but I have jealousy issues. Don’t get me wrong, I recognise that this is my problem to deal with, and I wouldn’t become paranoid or see things that aren’t there. But you’ve slept with a lot of females on this island, and I won’t do well with that. I can be a bitch when jealousy is riding me,” I warned.
“None of them meant anything to me. Not one.” His thumbs stroked my hipbones. “But Dean did mean something to you, and it’s pretty hard for me to deal with that even though I’m not a jealous person. So I figure we both need to make the other feel secure enough that those issues go away.
“Look, I know this won’t be easy, Imani. I won’t be easy. I can be pushy, selfish, insensitive, aggressive, and I like my own way. I’ll fuck up, but I will never purposely hurt you. I want to be the one who makes you smile, who makes you laugh, who makes you feel safe, and who makes you come every night. I’ll do my damn best to make sure all of that happens.”
I swallowed, unable to miss the total sincerity in his eyes and tone. I’d never thought I’d hear those words from him. Never.
“You’re right that we’ll have no support from the people around us. That means we gotta be tight, Imani. It means we gotta stand strong against it and have each other’s back. I’m up for that challenge. This is not me choosing to try a relationship. I’m claiming you as mine. You belong to me and only me, just like I belong to you.”
Pausing, he framed my face with his hands. “I’m a big risk. I get that. No one—not even me, baby—can judge you for being hesitant to take that risk. So maybe you should ask yourself if you’d regret it if you didn’t take that risk. I know what it’s like to live with that kind of regret, Imani. Let me tell you; it’s shit, and it eats at you. I didn’t take a risk on you when I should have. I didn’t make the right choice, and that hurt us both. I won’t pull that shit again. I want you to be happy. I don’t know how the fuck I’ll manage to make you happy, but I’ll sure as hell try.”