Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Again, I do not answer him.
“Because I accepted you. The wooden blocks that made no sense. The antlers. Hell, even the mangey coat. I was the only one who let you be you. So… ya know… you can lie to yourself all you want, but we both know that I made you feel accepted and safe.”
I think about this for a few moments. I did admit it on the rooftop, so he’s not wrong. But it’s all very one-sided still, isn’t it? So even though I don’t want to ask this question—not because I don’t want the answer. I just don’t want to encourage this conversation—so even though I don’t want to ask this question, I have to ask. I need to know. “How did I make you feel, Eros?”
“Me?” He blows out a long breath. “Well. Seen, I guess.”
“Seen?”
“And… needed.” He nods. “You made me feel needed. Your vulnerability made me strong.”
I want to object, but my mind is tired and I’m having a hard time finding the fatal flaw hiding within his confession.
He smiles now. And the tension between us eases a bit. “But it’s comfortable, don’t you think? I mean, why else would you come to my bed all those nights if it wasn’t comfortable, Callistina? If you weren’t getting something out of it.” He squints at me. “I made you feel safe, didn’t I?”
“I’ve already admitted this to you. After my nightmare. When we were on the roof, drinking. So fine. You made me feel safe. And, well, the only other option was to sleep alone. Which is not much of an option. Plus, you never told me to leave.”
“I didn’t want you to leave. I wasn’t… thinking about you much, but you were sort of… a fixture. Something I got used to. But I would just like to say”—he puts a hand up, asking me not to interrupt—“I would just like to say that you’re not just someone I got used to. Now you’re someone I count on. I truly do see you as a friend. A smart one. Capable too. And”—his grin becomes wide, spreading across that handsome face of his—“sexy.” He shrugs. “I mean, anyone who doesn’t think you’re sexy—especially like this”—his eyes linger on my lioness body—“is just a liar.”
I have to admit, it is his appreciation for my true body that lifts my heart a little. He said he was the only one who accepted me. And that’s true. It wasn’t until the very end of our… relationship back in Savage Falls, that he even mentioned my crazy outfit. So I guess it is friendship. Though I do not feel like admitting this to him. Not tonight, at least.
And is it not true that I have an appreciation for his body as well? Do I not like the look of him, even if I don’t really know the man, or god, inside?
It’s this question that spins my head a little. Because I’ve had sex with this god-man dozens of times. And each time I’ve been satisfied. But it was a wholly physical experience. It was a reaction to a stimulus and not much more.
So for a moment, I pause and wonder what it would’ve been like if I had truly known him. And it wasn’t just physical. What would it feel like to have a connection to a sex partner?
It’s a feeling so foreign to me that my mind goes blank just thinking about the question. I wouldn’t know. I have certainly never been in love. I don’t have any idea how to even dream up that scenario. I am incapable of even fantasizing about it.
And while I do not think I am in love with Eros, nor he me—I’m now convinced he’s telling the truth about the friendship. I agree that there is a connection between us. And maybe that’s something I should appreciate more?
Maybe friendship is the greatest prize? Maybe friendship is all the two of us will ever have? Maybe it’s the best we can ever hope for?
And like it or not, we are on a journey together. He’s right about that. It’s inevitable that this shared experience will bond us when we get to the end of it.
He might not be a permanent fixture in my life, but there’s no sense in denying that we’re on the same road, we come from the same place, and, for now, at least, we’ve only got each other.
I stare into his eyes, those unnatural green eyes, and suddenly have an urge to kiss him. It’s the magic, of course. His magic. But if it gives me the same result, do I have to care? It’s just sex, after all. “Do friends sleep together?”
Oh, he is delighted with the turn in conversation. As am I. I’m tired of talking about feelings. I don’t need any declarations. I just want physical contact.