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LIAM
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“I’M NOT SURE WHAT TO say...” Her gaze drops to the floor in shame. Mae bites her lip as fear and doubt maintain their stronghold on her. I hate that she feels this way. Hate that her friends—people who were supposed to love and accept her—betrayed her trust and made her feel inferior.
Made her too scared to voice her needs.
Glancing around the empty hall, I see a few magazines stacked on a small table, and inspiration strikes. “Why don't you read for me? Maybe it'll help you feel comfortable saying what you want if it's through another's words.”
Mae mulls the idea over in silence, but I can tell she likes it. Her expression noticeably brightens, a myriad of scenes at her disposal. “And you'll just listen to me read?”
"Well, I might do a couple of other things, but I'll definitely be listening." And petting. And kissing. And whatever the hell else Mae will let me do.
"Okay." A dim glow from the motion lights cruises over her cheeks as she settles into the lone chair next to the table lining the wall. It looks like we’re outside a Professor Marcus Hill’s office, and this is where he has students wait before speaking with them.
Well, tonight it’s where I’m finally going to get a taste of my girl.
Because I need to do something to make her feel better after the trainwreck at the dance.
Peeking up at me after a minute of scrolling her phone, Mae clears her throat and begins reading, her hesitant voice growing stronger as she relaxes into the story.
Perfect.
For a moment, I revel in her dulcet tones, close my eyes, and breathe deeply of musty books and Mae's sweet scent, a strangely comforting blanket of nostalgia. I remember our lit classes together. Remember time spent in the library researching.
Recall fantasies of stealing her away behind stacked bookshelves to have my dirty way with her.
To get a hit of my favorite addiction.
"Ronan slipped a beefy hand between Desi's thighs and searched for her..." The sexually explicit words drag me back to the present. Mae may be shy about voicing her needs, but she has no problem reading fictional characters’ sensuality aloud, a sultriness entering her tone.
Lowering to my knees before her, I tentatively run a hand over her calf, feeling the tremble of her muscles. There’s a hitch in her breath, and she pauses, causing me to stop as well.
“The spell he cast on Desi...” When she continues, my fingers begin again, tracing the round cap of her knee before sliding inward and squeezing her inner thigh.
Mae jolts and flips her phone over. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me. I want this, but...”
“You still don’t trust me enough,” I finish for her.
Disappointment wrinkles her brows, fine lines forming on her forehead. “I’m trying to. I want to. You’ve been wonderful this weekend, accommodated my awkwardness, yet there’s still a problem with me.”
“No. There’s nothing wrong with you. I’m moving us at hyper speed because we’re limited on time, and I’m desperate to make you mine. That’s on me, not you.” Deciding to give her some space, I stand and lean against the wall across from her. “You’re reacting like any normal person would—with caution and common sense.”
“Too much caution. Too much common sense,” she grumbles, and it’s fucking adorable. Like a disgruntled kitten who can’t get what it wants. Mae’s walls are high for a reason, no matter how much she believes she’s ready to scale them. People have burned her in the past, and it’s reasonable for her to maintain those protections.
I need to be vulnerable first.
We started out emotional when I found her crying Thursday, and she reluctantly spilled those bad experiences. Then I shuffled us into a whirlwind of lighthearted fun with Nicole to help Mae relax and realize I’m here for more than just a hook up. But now it’s time to reveal my own baggage—explain why I fear Mae won’t want me as much as she fears letting me in.
“My dad’s an alcoholic. My grandfather’s a workaholic. My family has a legacy of addiction.” Afraid to see her reaction, I fiddle with the buttons of my cuff before deciding to go all in with the vulnerability. Inside and out. And my jacket quietly falls to the floor, while my hands move on to unbuttoning my shirt.
“What... What are you doing?” Mae sputters as I methodically strip in the hall. Other people could be roaming campus like us, but it doesn’t matter. This is for her—and for me. I’ve longed to unburden myself to Mae, to feel the comfort I know she’d offer.
“Showing you who I am.” The shirt joins my jacket, and the belt around my pants is next. “Growing up, I knew I never wanted to be like my dad or grandpa... really any of my male relatives because it’s a known fact that the Kennedy men are trouble. But that day in gym. When I caught you in my arms. Saw the trust in your gaze, heard the softness of your voice... You ruined me, Mae—my obsession found.”