It’s my turn to have laughter burst from me.
Kas wraps his arms around me and kisses me. “Let me just go clean up, and I’ll be back.” He brushes his nose over mine before kissing the tip of it, and then he pulls out of me.
I wince a little at the soreness, but I hate the loss of him inside me more.
“Could you bring me a cloth to clean up?” I ask.
“Sure.”
I watch him walk to the bathroom and sigh. He has a great butt. Really tight and firm. And those shoulders…drool.
Kas disappears inside. I hear running water. He’s not gone for long before he’s coming back with a washcloth in his hand.
I reach to take it from him, but he moves his hand away.
“Let me.” He presses the warm, damp cloth between my legs, gently cleaning me.
I watch him, amazed at the depths of my feelings for this man I referred to as Kas-hole.
“The first time I met you…I never thought we’d be here.”
He stops cleaning me and looks at me with tender eyes. “I’m glad we are.”
“Yeah, me, too,” I whisper as my heart bumps clumsily around in my chest.
“All clean?” He checks.
I nod.
He takes the cloth back to the bathroom. I climb in under the duvet. Kas returns and climbs into bed beside me. He wraps me in his arms, so we’re face-to-face.
He softly kisses me. I press my hand to his chest, touching his scars. I feel him tense.
“I don’t see them,” I whisper. “I don’t look at you and those scars independently. I just see you.”
“I see them,” he murmurs. “And I hate them.”
I slide my hand over his chest and around to his back. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he says, but his eyes don’t look sure.
But I have to ask, so I take a breath and start talking, “I mean, I think I understand why you didn’t want me to see the scars. Because of the way they make you feel about yourself, and you hate them. But then I remembered that day when I walked in on you and Jude sparring. Your back was to me, and you didn’t have a shirt on that day. You went and put one on before I saw anything, but obviously, you had been shirtless around Jude. So, why do you feel okay with him seeing them?”
His eyes close briefly before reopening. “Well, I didn’t want to have sex with Jude, for starters.” He gives me a slight smile. “And Jude knows everything that happened. He’s the only other person who does—aside from my parents and, of course, you.”
“How long have you known him?”
“We met at group therapy when we were eighteen. I was seeing a therapist, but he also ran a group session for people who were suffering with various types of PTSD. He thought it would be good for me to join his group. Jude was also a patient at the group session. We got to talking and just clicked. He was the one who got me into parkour.”
“What about MMA?”
“That was me. I wanted to be able to”—his eyes skim away from me—“defend myself and the people I care about. Jude came along with me and found that he liked it, too.”
“You’re a team.” I smile softly.
“Yeah.” His eyes find mine again. “He’s a good friend.”
I don’t ask why Jude was in therapy because it’s none of my business. I’m just glad that Kas has him in his life.
He’s silent for a moment, and then he says in a quiet voice, “I was afraid…for you to see me. I thought, if you saw the real me…then you wouldn’t want me.”
I press my hand to his face. “I really like the real you. It was Kas-hole that I wasn’t so keen on.”
He gives me a look of shock. I fight to hold back my laughter.
The next thing I know, I’m flat on my back, and Kas is between my legs with his hands on my stomach, tickling me.
“No! Stop!” I squeal, trying but failing to wriggle out of his hold. “I’m really ticklish!” I gasp.
“Yeah, I can see that.”
He tickles me again, and I scream.
“Stop!” I’m panting for air because I’m laughing so hard.
And he’s laughing. The sound is beautiful, and it’s weaving itself around my thudding heart.
“I’m sorry!”
He pauses and looks up at me.
“I said, I’m sorry,” I pant.
“For?” He hovers a threatening hand over my stomach.
“For calling you Kas-hole.” I can’t help but grin when I say the name.
His smile mirrors mine. “You’re not really sorry, are you?”
Pressing my lips together, sealing my smile, I shake my head.
His eyes glitter with mischief.
In a flash, my arms are pinned at my sides, and his mouth is on my stomach.