"I don't have a good answer for that, honey. It's just how it is. And I won't lie to you and say it is going to change, that I will reform or some shit. This is who I am. This is what I do. I don't see that ever changing."
A part of me wanted to reassure her, tell her I might give it up, I might go straight, I might just be like any other normal businessman. But if what we had between us was going to work, we needed to be raw and honest with each other.
She gave me the truth about her and her anxiety and agoraphobia. She hadn't tried to say she would be completely normal one day, she would never have another panic attack again, she could be someone she wasn't. Likewise, I couldn't tell her I could be someone I wasn't.
It was truly a situation where she needed to take me as I am.
And there was a large part of me that was genuinely concerned she might not pick me, she might change her mind and decide that I wasn't worth possible sleepless nights when she knew I was chasing down a client or the sick-stomach feeling when I came home bloodied and bruised.
She had every right to want better for herself.
And I would just have to accept that.
"So when you're old and wrinkly and have arthritis..."
"If you met my father, you would know 'old and wrinkly' isn't something I have to worry about."
"Silver fox, huh?" she asked, giving me a saucy little smile.
I sidestepped that, no one wanting to think of their father along those lines. But we could agree that I had a full head of hair and good bone structure to look forward to. And so long as I kept myself in shape, I figured I would be able to own the 'silver fox' title when I was older. "I imagine, by then, the business might have evolved to not include that anymore or, possibly, the kids might take over."
"Kids," she prompted, seeming to tense slightly at that.
"Yeah, kids," I agreed, brows drawing together.
"You want kids?"
"Hell yeah, I want kids," I said, giving her a smile. "I grew up with four brothers, Dusty. It was chaotic and loud and frustrating and privacy didn't exist and you had to develop a thick skin both literally and figuratively because the physical and verbal beatdowns never let up, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. I always had partners in crime and now that we're adults, we always have each other's backs and we can always lean on one another. I would want my own wild and crazy family one day too."
Her gaze fell from mine, looking at my chest.
"Do you want kids?" I asked when the silence stretched long enough to almost be uncomfortable.
She didn't look up and answered my chest instead of my face. "I always used to."
"Why used to?"
She laughed humorlessly at that. "Because I can't get pregnant when I can't leave my house. I can't go to the doctor or the hospital or school conferences or sports practices. It would be... unfair to put my mental illness onto a kid."
"Honey, there's no one who can predict the future. There's no one who can say definitively that you will always be stuck in your house, that you will always need a comfort zone. People fight back against their agoraphobia every day and win. They rebuild their lives and they make connections. They fall in love. They have kids."
"Yeah, but there's no telling that that is how it is going to go for me."
"No," I agreed. "But I think you're a little young to lose hope in the rest of your life. And I think you are not seeing how much things have changed for you just in a couple weeks."
"I've only been out of your apartment for..."
"The night of the carbon monoxide leak, Dusty. You freaked and you didn't like it, but you did stay in my car and you did calm down. Then you bought me a Christmas present and left it outside my door. You let me in on Christmas. Then you didn't even hesitate about coming to my apartment. And to top all of that off, you're in a fucking hotel room with me now, out of your comfort zone, recently fucked for the first time in who knows when, but still calm. These things aren't small. You can't look at how far you have to go and get discouraged. Look back and see how far you've come instead."
She took a couple slow, deep breaths and looked up at me slowly. "Three."
"I'm sorry?" I asked, stroking a hand down her spine, feeling my cock stiffen slightly when she shivered at my touch.
"Three years."
"I'm gonna need more than that, honey."
"That's how long it's been. Since I've... you know."
"Been fucked?" I supplied, giving her a huge smile when she actually fucking blushed. "Like that you're sweet and everything, Dusty, but you're going to be constantly red in the face if the word 'fucking' makes you uncomfortable."
"It's not the word," she objected, giving me a strange smile I couldn't quite interpret.
"What then? The time?" I asked and her gaze dropped for a second before coming back up. So that was it. "I didn't figure you'd been having a ton of guys over to sleep with, Dusty. I knew it had been a while."
"A while is like... eight months, a year at the most..."
"By whose standard? Everyone fucks differently. Some will take home whoever the hell smiles at them and tells them they're hot. Others need to be in love. Some don't do it at all until they marry. What the fuck does it matter how long it's been? Because if this is some insecurity thing? Like maybe you think you're out of practice or some shit like that," I said, watching as she went redder. That was exactly it. Of all the asinine things. But that was what her anxiety did- it made mountains out of molehills. "Then let me go ahead and get this out of the way and ease your mind a bit."
"Ryan, no. It's fine..." she said, shaking her head.
"Nope. It's not fine. I got a woman in bed with me that I was just inside a couple minutes ago and she thinks she was somehow disappointing. That shit will never be fine. Look at me," I demanded, my voice a little more firm than usual, but she still didn't raise her eyes. I reached out and snagged her chin, dragging it up. "You're not out of practice. And you sure as fuck are not a disappointment. In fact, what we just had right here, that was the best I've ever had. And not just because the way you scream my name makes it hard not to come right then and there or that you have the sweetest pussy I've ever tasted, but because it meant something, okay? That meant something. So don't be going and tearing it down and making it ugly or something to be worried about. Okay? Dusty?"
She blinked hard a few times, trying to make the glistening I saw there go away before turning her face and kissing my hand. "Okay."
"So that's settled. Back to the original question. You want kids?"
She gave me a small smile at that. "Yes. I want kids."
"One or a litter?"
To that, she laughed. "As an only child who had very few friends growing up, I would want my kids to have siblings so they could always have a buddy around."
"Sounds like a good plan. So, not to kill the less tense mood we got going on right now. But I figure we need to get this out of the way. What's going on in your head about my job?"
She went thoughtful at that. "I know I'm supposed to be freaked about it..."
"But?"
"But, you've been nothing but good to me. Your brothers have been good to me. You're the first person I have come across in a long time who doesn't make me anxious. I think the good is outweighing the bad right now."
"I just want to make sure you know what you're getting into here."
"I understand the situation," she said, giving me a small nod.
"And you know it's not going to change," I pressed.
To that, she laughed a little. "I'm a big girl, Ryan. I have long ago figured out that you can't change people or situations. You have to take them as they are. And in you're case, I'd be happy to."
Oh, shit.
I knew right then and there that I was in trouble, that things had gotten serious. Because hearing her say she would be happy to take me as I was, yeah, there was a feeling in my chest that, while I hadn't experienced it before, I knew it for what it was.
"What's that look for?" she asked, head tipped to the side, watching me.
"What look?"
"You look... anxious," she said with a smile. "I know that look intimately. And you have it." Then her face fell a little. "Was that, um, too much? I mean, I can..."
"Shush," I said, reaching up and putting a finger to her lips. "It wasn't too much. It's just... new for me."
"Yeah, well, your apartment does seem to suggest that a woman hasn't stayed in it for more than a night or two."
"What's wrong with my apartment?"
"Got a pen and paper? This could take a while."
I laughed at that, rolling her onto her back and kissing her until she forgot all about pen and paper and complaints and grievances about my apartment.
"You can do whatever you want to it," I said after and watched as she blinked up at me, eyelids heavy, lips swollen for all the right fucking reasons.