Page 67 of Tripped Up
“Really? Why’s that?” He traces little circles on my bare shoulder.
“Because you went out of your way to avoid me before.”
He laughs. “That’s because I was trying not to get a hard-on in public.”
I turn to him, my eyebrows raised. “What?”
“You’re fucking hot. Even when you hated me—especially when you hated me—I thought you were the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.”
My face falls. “But you let me hate you. For years.”
“Because I deserved it. I was such a dick.” A frown pinches his face. “Elsy, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know how else to say it.”
I focus on the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I can’t forget it. It plays on a loop in my head, over and over.”
He swallows, the sound audible over the softly playing music filtering through the restaurant.
“I can’t forget it,” I repeat. “But I may be able to forgive you one day.”
“That’s all I want,” he says. “If I could go back and change things…”
“But we can’t.” I take a sip of my wine to steady myself. “Maybe it’s for the better this way.”
“We wouldn’t be here now,” he agrees. “I was nowhere near ready for the kind of relationship I want with you now. We were nineteen. We never would have lasted.” He gives a self-deprecating laugh. “Between us living on opposite sides of the country, my dropping out of school, then working my way up through the AHL and into the league… I never would have been able to give you what you deserve.”
“So you don’t think I’m a tubby butterface with good tits?”
Fuck, even saying the words drags me back into that mental headspace.
“You have great tits, but you are not a butterface. You are so fucking gorgeous.”
“You didn’t say anything about the tubby part.” My hands shake.
“I like your body.” His hand skates over my side, his fingertips brushing my rolls, and for once, I don’t flinch away. “I like you exactly the way you are. I’ve shown you how sexy I think your body is. That hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s even hotter now.”
“I’ve seen pictures of your ex-girlfriends. They were tall and skinny and—”
“And they’re ex-girlfriends. Not current. Not future.”
My mouth goes dry. “Is that what we are?”
“It’s what I want.” Wyatt skims his fingertip over my cheek. “I’m not interested in playing games. I want you, Elsy. I want to be with you. The only question is if you’re ready to be with me.”
“I—I—”
He brushes a soft kiss to my lips. “I don’t need an answer right away. We can work together to get there. If you’re just looking for a fling, I’ll say goodnight and go home. I want something real. And I think we can have it—together.”
“I’m not ready to have sex.” The words fly out of my mouth, and horrified, I bring my hands to my lips like that will reverse them.
He pulls my hands away. “That’s fine. Did I say I expected us to dive into bed?”
I pause. “Well, no. But guys usually—”
“I’m not them.” His voice is firm and steady, a hint of steel. “I won’t treat you the way they did. I’m not them.”
Forcing a chuckle, I try to downplay it. “So clearly I have some baggage.”
“Babe, we’ve all got baggage. But I swear to you, we will take this at your pace. What we have, right now, it’s fragile. It’s so delicate. We have to take care of it.” He traces his thumb over my cheek. “Because Elsy, this thing we have… it could be really, really great. I’m certain of that.”
