The Heart Wants What It Wants: The Sequel

2

They'd sat in his car near the hotel, talking until it began to get dark.  The car had grown cold and she'd been unable to hide the slight shivering anymore, even with tucking her hands between her thighs.  

He'd surprised her by offering to walk her to the entrance, and then watching her go inside without following.  It didn't take too long, sitting in her quiet room on the edge of her bed, for the urge to text him to start.  

Something about the way he'd backed off, the way he was letting her set the pace with their interactions, had made it feel safer to allow it.  It was still a dangerous time.  One touch or kiss from him and she'd be instantly pliable.  But so long as his self-control held out, perhaps a deal could be struck, one he'd stick to no matter what she said or did to attempt to break it.

She remembered the shower incident all too well, when he'd had resolve and she'd been weak.  This time, she'd make sure he wouldn't give in to her.  Too much was at stake to let her lust get the better of her.

Like my sanity, she thought grimly as she picked up her mobile.  

She shot him a text and asked if they could talk some more.  It was the start of a conversation that would last until 2 in the morning.  

He'd asked about James, and not about sexual things.  He'd wanted to know what kind of man she'd come close to marrying, and had listened quietly without interrupting.  Only when she'd felt as though she'd elaborated enough had he finally spoken.  

"I envy him," he'd murmured without sarcasm.  "He has a family and I don't.  Even if my parents were still alive, I wouldn't have allowed them anywhere near you.  I could never give you what he could've."

She hadn't denied or downplayed how wonderful his family are, at least what she'd seen of them.  They'd been nothing but kind to her and she would've loved them back. 

She'd changed the subject after that, steering their talk into a personal area she'd never ventured into before: his parents.

"What do you want to know?"  His guarded tone didn't detour her.  She'd wanted to know more about them since the first time they'd had dinner together, the night he'd bluntly dropped the bombshell in her lap about how they'd died.

"You told me what happened...how it happened," she hedged, delicately building up to where she was leading him.  "I don't know anything about them, other than that."

"They were cruel, not only to me but to each other.  What specifically did you want to know?"

His tone had softened a little, but she sensed this wasn't an easy conversation for him.  It was also getting late and she didn't want to leave him in a bad headspace after they hung up.

"We can talk about it another time...if that's okay?"

She could hear him yawn before he gave his delayed response, and it made her yawn as well.  

"Babe, if you want to meet the skeletons in my closets, I'll open every door up.  I don't mean to be grouchy about it."

She smiled sleepily at the familiar endearment and rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket up a little higher.  

"It's okay.  I just want to know more about you, more than what I know."

"Then I'll tell you anything you want to know.  You sound sleepy though."

She admitted that she was, which forced him to admit the same.  

"I promise I'm not going anywhere tomorrow.  We can talk again then."