Fear of Falling(19)

His hands were grasping my shoulders with enough pressure to get my attention, and indicate he was serious. “You can, Kam. You can but you won’t. There’s a difference. Saying it out loud doesn’t bring it to life. It doesn’t power the fear. It takes it away. It shows that you are in control.”

“Does it?” I asked, a frown easing itself between my brows. “Because every time I’ve let my guard down, it has backfired in my face in the worst possible way. By tucking it away, by listing everything in this life that terrifies the shit out of me, I am releasing it. I need this, Dom. It’s the only thing that is keeping me sane.” A smirk played at my lips as I shrugged under his grip. “Well, somewhat sane.”

Dominic dropped his hands and let them slide down to my wrists. “Just promise me one day. Promise you’ll let me in. I need to know that you aren’t crumbling inside.”

“My, my…notorious playboy, Dominic Trevino has a heart of gold,” I smiled, hoping to lighten the mood.

Humor was my fallback when things got too heavy, and they often did with us. To the outside world, we were normal, carefree, fun-loving, young adults. But the truth was, we were anything but. We were broken, battered and bleeding. We had depended on each other for so long that we didn’t know how to survive without the other. Dom had become an appendage to me. He was just as vital to my life as my arm or leg. I not only needed him to keep moving forward, I needed him to keep the crippling anxiety from squeezing the breath from my lungs every single damn day. Dominic was my savior.

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head, totally seeing through my ploy to change the subject. But he would let it go. For now. He always did.

“Ok, Fatty, let’s get you fed.” He pinched the sliver of exposed skin where my jeans hugged my hipbones. I rolled my eyes. If it were up to him, I’d be a good 15 pounds heavier. I still hadn’t put on the weight I had dropped after the last incident.

“I really wish you’d talk to me,” he said quietly. “I don’t like this, Kam. I don’t want you suffering in silence.” A quick flash of hurt played on his features. But that was all he would give me. He was just as emotionally blocked as I was.

“I know you want me to open up. And I will. One day.” I tugged at a lock of hair nervously, trying to pull the words from my lips. “It’s just… It was just a name, Dom.”

Before I could explain, his eyes had widened with alarm, and he was pulling me closer to his body protectively. “What happened? Did he find you? Has he made contact? Tell me what happened, Kam.”

I shook my head furiously, hoping to dispel his alarm. “No, nothing like that. A new name.” I tried to give him the most confident smile I owned, which was pretty damn pathetic to his trained eye. “It’s not what you think. And it’s not really the person I fear. It’s me. It’s my reaction to him. It’s the pure adrenaline that courses through my veins whenever we’re near. It’s the excitement I feel when he says my name. It’s the way his eyes penetrate the front I put on for the world to see me for what I am. And I hate it. It scares the shit out of me because I like it too.”

I would have sworn that a family of flies could have camped out in Dom’s mouth that hung ajar for a good 30 seconds after my confession.

“You met a guy? And you’re afraid of him?”

“No,” I said shaking my head. “I’m afraid because, whenever he’s around, I’m not scared anymore. I feel…safe. Like being near him is the most natural thing in the world.”

Dominic shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. I couldn’t blame him. I couldn’t believe I was actually saying the words aloud.

“And I assume you won’t be sharing the name of this mystery man that is so damn scary, yet somehow so damn appealing? I’ll even up the ante with champagne,” he winked.

I grinned at my little secret and shook my head. I wasn’t ready to say. Not because I was afraid to tell him in fear of judgment. And not because I thought he’d disapprove. But if what Dom said was true about revealing my fears—if saying it out loud somehow made this feeling less real, then I don’t think I could ever be ready.

For the first time in twenty-three years, I felt something. Something other than trepidation when a man touched me. Something more than the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when I had to shatter another heart because I couldn’t let anyone in. Something so much more than the emptiness that filled my chest when I thought about the normal, happy life that I would never have.