He blinked hard and I felt the muscles in his jaw tense.
He was hearing me. I was getting to him.
I had to keep going.
I looked between us, at the console and his body pressed against it to get closer to me and my body pressed against it to get closer to him.
“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning back and gripping my waist as I put my weight on my left foot and carefully brought my other leg over to his side.
“Getting closer,” I replied.
I slid over him and straddled his lap.
“Syd …”
My hands moved from his shoulders to around his neck. I pressed closer until I could feel his breath on my mouth.
“I’m gonna say some things to you and I want you to listen,” I said. “Can you do that?”
His hands glided to my back.
“Do I have a choice?” he asked.
“No, but I thought I’d be polite and give you the option.”
He looked to my mouth, then back to my eyes, replying, “Sweet of you.”
I shrugged, found the words I wanted to say, and said them quickly, speaking fast because I didn’t want to be interrupted and because I believed them so much I couldn’t keep them to myself another second.
“You’re a good man, Brian,” I started, feeling his neck pull as he tried to look away but I kept a tight hold so he couldn’t. “Amazing,” I continued, bending closer. “I needed you, but I didn’t know I needed you until you reached out to me and made sure I was okay. You told me to focus on you, remember? When I said I felt lost and scared, you wanted to talk to me. You comforted me. You didn’t need to do that but you did, and I don’t care if your reasons were selfish in the beginning. I don’t care if you wanted to know the girl who had to be a little crazy for going off on you the way she did. You made me laugh and live and you helped me find the person I was without Marcus, and you did that carrying this guilt inside of you that you didn’t deserve to carry. You were hurting so bad but you shut that out so you could heal me. You kept that locked inside and you made sure I was okay. That’s …I mean, my God, how amazing of a man can you possibly be? Who does that?”
“Syd,” he tried, interrupting when I paused to take in a shuddering breath.
I was a mess of tears and a quivering voice, but I pressed on. I didn’t stop.
“You are a dream, Brian Savage,” I repeated, dropping my head until our foreheads touched. “You’re my dream. The most amazing person I’ve ever known, and I’m going to heal you. I am, and you’re not going to be able to stop me so don’t even bother trying. This is happening. It’s my turn. You healed me and now I’m healing you. I’m going to do it. I’m going to make sure you’re okay, and I’m not going to stop until there is none of that guilt left inside of you. I’m not going to stop until you’re the one telling me that accident wasn’t your fault. I promise. Forever.” I dipped closer. “I’m going to give you Wild for the rest of your life and so much of it you won’t have room to feel anything else.”
His eyes flickered wider.
Then on a growl he wrapped his one arm around my waist and slid his other hand to the back of my neck, gripped me there, and yanked me down until he could take my mouth in a kiss that tasted like love and felt like madness, that was so hard and violent my lips burned and bruised, but it was good. So good I went harder and took him deeper, holding him so tight my hands shook.
We were a chaos of tongues and teeth and hurried breaths. I matched his fire. I matched his depravity.
He pulled and I pulled. He bit and I bit. He loved and I loved.
I was already spinning a second into it and by the time Brian broke the kiss on a moan that rattled in his chest, I felt mindless and melted into him, sank lower, then dropped my head on his shoulder as his arms coiled around me.
We were silent for minutes but it was strange. I said so much and heard him so loudly, the words that made up his heartbeat and mine, it became my favorite conversation.
My eyes were closed when I felt his lips press to my temple, and a second later, I heard him quietly ask, “You’ll never let me believe it was my fault, will you?”
I breathed deep and shook my head.
“No. And you’ll never let me believe it was mine.”
Brian’s arms held me tighter, and that was all I needed because I knew.
He was going to let me heal him.
* * *
It was Sunday evening and I was excited.
No, scratch that, I was beyond excited. This was excitement on a whole new level because I had accomplished something I had never accomplished before, to be more specific, something I had ruined to the point of no return five days prior.
The homemade potpie with made-from-scratch pie dough.
I wasn’t going to let some recipe with misleading instructions knock me down and keep me from cooking again. No way. I was determined. And I had an entire afternoon to tackle that recipe and get it perfect for Brian.
We spent the morning together since we were both off work today, but Brian said he had something he needed to take care of around one o’clock for his sister, he’d be gone several hours and wouldn’t get home until after five, and even though my throat stung with disappointment because I wasn’t invited to whatever it was he was taking care of, nor was I informed of it, I quickly swallowed that disappointment and focused on the opportunity I was given.
I wanted this to be a surprise, a good one this time, and now I had my chance.