Her fingers tighten around mine like she’s trying to comfort me.
And for the second time in a matter of heartbeats, she tilts me off my axis.
Is she trying to comfort me?
Uneasiness rolls across my shoulders. And it’s not from the fact that she seems to be able to read me, I’m uneasy because it almost feels like she cares about me.
Could that even be possible?
I’ve been with women. Felt desire and being desired. I’ve had women that want to be with me, stay with me. But it wasn’t because of me. It was always about my bank account, or my position of power, or even the rebellion of being with a bad guy. It was always about what I could give them, nothing more.
It’s been… It’s been a long f*****g time since anyone cared.
Distracted by thoughts of affection, I pull a key out of my pocket
