Page 50 of Will to Run

“You were a virgin before him?” The question escapes my mouth, and for the second time tonight, I’m fucking speechless. Because I still can’t wrap my head around the fact her ex didn’t want to live on her body twenty-four seven… but to treat her poorly knowing that you were her first?

Her head goes back and hits the headrest. “Jaxon, I know I share a lot, but the amount I have overshared with you needs to be studied. Does everyone confess their secrets to you, or is it just me?”

I don’t look away after that confession, but I still can’t find words. She waited for someone special, and it was him? That douchebag? Fuck’s sake. I’m that much more sure that I made the right decision pulling away earlier. Who knows what would have led to where, and what if we ended up in a hallway, a bathroom stall, or my truck? Jesus. She deserves so much better. Admittedly, looking at her now, she isn’t drunk, but she slammed pitchers of water and ate food between her sex lessons proposition and now.

“Please don’t look at me differently. My whole fucking life is a series of embarrassments right now.”

I gently grab her chin to make her face me, and wait until her eyes meet mine. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Not one single thing. I don’t know what your relationship was like, but the fact that he wanted your virginity as a trophy and then didn’t choose you speaks volumes about him, not you. I’m sorry you’ve had a shit hand, Della.”

“Things weren’t always shit. Things just plummeted after my mom.”

“That was five years ago.”

“It’s been a rough five years,” she laughs a little.

A car is coming up behind us, so I have to put the car in gear and keep going, but I want to ask her a hundred more questions.

“If you weren’t taking the high road, would you have done something like… tried to screw me in the bathroom?” she asks when we turn off the main strip.

I’m not sure how to answer. Because… I mean, I’ve done it before. Not often, and not at the Lantern, but it’s happened. And I’ve certainly slept with people in my truck. But I’m feeling pretty self-conscious of what my past looks like compared to hers. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever taken that into consideration.

“Is that something you’d be into?” I venture, realizing maybe that’s what she wants to hear.

She just shrugs. “That’s kind of dirty. Probably not a bathroom. I think I’d be chasing the I need this now, or I’ll die feeling.”

“It’s more likely we would have ended up in my truck,” I say, understanding that yes, that’s exactly what she wants to think about.

She looks my way again, and I see her glance down at my dick. All the talk of fucking her in various locations has made things a little exciting, but let her stare. Maybe she didn’t do it for her ex, but she sure as shit does it for me.

“Jaxon, I am not that drunk, and I respect that you’re concerned about my ability to consent. I won’t push anymore tonight, but I wasn’t joking inside. I want at least one night with you. My ex always made me feel like I sucked, and blamed his lack of initiation on me. I know more of the why now, but it doesn’t negate the fact that I don’t really know where I stand. I want to be good. No, I want to be fucking mind-blowing. You seem safe because… well, your talents are talked about. But if I am the worst you’ve ever been with, I’m leaving soon, so you can laugh at that crazy person who breezed into town, sucked in bed, and took off. I never ask for what I want or put myself out there. I’m doing both with you.”

“You’re underselling yourself, Tatroe. Have you looked in a mirror?” I side-eye her and half make a joke. Because the things I would do…

“What do you see? When you look at me?”

“You mean besides your radiant beauty and beautiful heart?”

She laughs, “I guess. I’m not sure. I’ve never asked someone that.”

“Ask me again when we get back to your place,” I say. I’m still not going to start these lessons tonight, but as long as she has her wits about her tomorrow and still feels like exploring a one-night… or weeks-long stand with me? Giddy-up.

25

DELLA

For the first time in five years, I feel alive. A wonderful, vibrating-under-my-skin kind of alive.

And when I’m near Jaxon Wills, it’s dangerous. If I could cherry-pick things I’d want in someone, it would be him; sinfully hot, kind beyond words, hilarious, strong, respectful, safe, I mean… everything. He is the whole package. When he told me why he pulled away from me at the bar, it made sense. I still didn’t love it, but I understood. And that catapulted him into the stratosphere. The laughter replaced the rejection I felt at the bar, and it was forgotten by the time we arrived home.

Stopping in front of cabin fourteen, he turns off the truck. I assumed that he’d drop me off like he did last time. Instead, he jumps out, makes his way to my side, and helps me down. His hand slides against my back as we walk up the stairs, and the moment his fingers touch my skin, the familiar heat rushes back in. As I’m fumbling around for my keys, Jaxon gently grabs my wrist, and the gesture makes my pulse race. Without a word, he uses his free hand to take the purse and put it on the ground, before looking back to me, fire in his eyes. My gaze bounces between them and the lips he just licked, and when he takes a step toward me, I take one back until my spine meets the door. I’m pretty sure the people six cabins over hear my inhale because yes.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

“Ask me,” he says.

My mind goes through dozens of things in an instant, but I don’t know what he’s talking about. “I’m not sure what to ask you,” I whisper. As if speaking loudly could break this moment.

“Ask me what I see when I look at you, Della.”