Mine Forever(19)

"Honestly, I barely remember most of it." He shook his head slightly. "Sam said Mom was a total wreck. The only thing I remember was being ashamed when I was finally coherent. And sad because Rose was dead."

Her head jerked back abruptly in shock. Searching his eyes, confused, she asked, "Why? You didn't do anything wrong."

"I was duped because I was horny. I was thinking with the head below my waist instead of the one above it. Rose coming on to me wasn't logical. It didn't make any sense. I should have been suspicious. Christ! All she had said to me in months was to go to hell. Should have known something wasn't right. But I didn't think about anything but getting off." His face was dark and tortured. "I was pissed at myself. I put my mom and Sam through hell because I was stupid. I knew better. I grew up in the neighborhood. I sure as hell knew how to watch my own back."

Her palm lifted to his face, stroking over his jaw, realizing that he had been a man in a boy's body when he was injured, expecting himself to make rational decisions even when his hormones were raging. Didn't he realize, although he may have had the intelligence of an older man, his body had still been young, his maturity still that of a sixteen-year-old boy? "Simon...you were sixteen. Still a boy. You may have been a boy genius, but you were still a teenager."

"Yeah, and I didn't grow up to be exactly...uh...normal." He caught her hand that was roaming over the stubble on his face and brought it to his mouth. He kissed her palm gently and entwined their fingers, resting their conjoined hands over his heart.

"No, you didn't. You grew up to be extraordinary. You have reason not to trust easily. What happened with Dr. Evans?" Sure, he needed to have control, but given the circumstances surrounding the traumatic event, she was willing to bet that anyone would have their demons from that experience. She knew she would.

"He made me talk. I hated it, but I went every week to make my mom feel better. After a while, it got easier. He helped me through my feelings about Rose's death and about my father. But I never told him what really happened. I couldn't. I couldn't tell anyone. Everyone assumed that Rose came in through an unlocked door and stabbed me while I was sleeping...and I just let them continue to think that. It seemed easier." His body tensed. "It was a coward's way out."

"But there must have been signs at the scene. The condom and--"

"Apparently, Rose had some sort of feelings for me, some guilt. There was no condom and my dick was in my pants. No one ever assumed that it was anything but an attack on me while I was asleep. A revenge hit against my father. You're the only person who knows. I couldn't even tell Sam." His voice trailed off in a husky whisper.

Her heart ached for him, her soul needing to somehow comfort him. Pulling her hand from his, she turned his face to hers, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Listen to me. You were attacked when you were young and vulnerable. You have no reason to feel guilty or ashamed. Not one bit of it was your fault. I understand why you have trust issues. I understand why you panicked the other night." She saw doubt in his eyes and it pissed her off. "But know this...you survived and grew into a gorgeous, sexy, brilliant, successful man in spite of the fact that you got a raw deal when you were younger. You're the most incredible man I've ever known. Do you understand me!?" Her statement was fierce and her eyes were shooting fire. Damn it, he needed to get it through his thick head that he was someone special.

His eyes grew warmer and his lips twitched. "Yeah. I got it. Can we go back to the sexy part?"

She rolled her eyes. Trust Simon to focus in on only the sex part of her statement.

"Is that the only part you heard?" she replied, exasperated.

"No. But it was the most interesting part." He grinned at her unashamedly.

Frustrated, she scooped up a handful of water and dropped it on his head. "I'm trying to explain something to you here."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his body, creating a ripple in the tub that had water lapping against their skin in a gentle caress. Eyes heated and intense, he speared her with a look that spoke of possession, desire that ran much deeper than lust. "Do you want to know what I understand?"

She shivered as his arms slid tightly around her body, anchoring her against him. Unable to speak, she nodded.

His voice low and raspy, he answered, "I understand that I have to be luckiest bastard on the planet because you love me, you accept me. Hell, I think you almost understand me--which is a fucking miracle because sometimes I don't even understand myself. I don't really know how to romance you like I should, but it isn't because I don't want to. I just don't know how. I understand that before I met you I was living in a very small world, and somehow you dragged me into the light, made me look around and actually see things that I never saw before. I understand that you make me a better man." He snaked a hand around her neck and planted a fierce, possessive kiss on her lips. Pulling away abruptly, he cupped her chin, his eyes molten and fierce. "Is that enough understanding for you?"