When we reached the house, McKenna quietly toed off her shoes and followed me up the stairs. Once inside my dark bedroom, McKenna paused just inside the doorway, uncertainty written all over her in the pale glow of moonlight. Indecision coursed through me. My own needs would have to take a backseat. I just wanted to make her comfortable.

Wrapping her in my arms from behind, I pressed the brush of a kiss against the bare skin at the back of her neck. “You okay?” I whispered, letting my chin rest on her shoulder.

“Fine,” she whispered. “Just…thinking….”

“Overthinking,” I whispered back. “You tired?”

She nodded, her cheek resting against mine. “Am I sleeping over?”

“Do you want to?”

She hesitated and I spun her in my arms. As turned on as I’d been on the dance floor, I wanted her to see that she could trust me to go slow. She’d once requested that I be a gentleman with her and I wouldn’t betray that trust. She’d done too much for me, taken a leap of faith on even being here and I couldn’t fuck this up. Not for me and McKenna and not for my brothers either.

Brilliant sapphire eyes looked up into mine, so trusting and full of hope. She gave a tight nod.  Even if she knew she shouldn’t want this with someone like me – she did. That was all the reassurance I needed. I wouldn’t lure her into my world or force anything on her. The fact that she was choosing to be here meant everything. She knew my fucked up past, and still she was here.

I placed a soft kiss on her forehead and gathered up some pajamas for her. A pair of a sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt I knew would be huge on her. “For you.” I left the clothes in her hands and headed into the bathroom to give her some privacy. After brushing my teeth and waiting for McKenna to do the same, we crawled into bed together.

In the dim light from the moon and street lamps outside, only the faint outline of McKenna’s curves were visible under the sheets. “Are you warm enough?” It didn’t escape my notice that she’d forgone the sweatpants, dressing only in the T-shirt I’d left for her.

She nodded. “I’m perfect.”

“I agree.”

She chuckled in the darkness. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. But it’s the truth. Sometimes I don’t even know why you’re here with me. Why you’ve never judged me the way others do.”

“I’m no one to pass judgment,” she said sadly.

She was the best, the most pure and selfless person I knew. How could she possibly think that about herself? Maybe it was time to learn about the inner demons that plagued her. “Will you tell me about your parents? How you lost them?” She stayed quiet. “You know so much about me and my past, and I want you to know that you can open up to me too, but only when you’re ready. I won’t force you.”

She nodded. “No, it’s okay. It’s time you knew.” She watched my eyes in the dim light as if deciding if she could trust me with the secret that burdened her. “When I was seventeen my parents died in a car accident. A drunk driver broadsided them on their way to church.”

I found her hands under the blanket and laced my fingers with hers. “I’m sorry.”

The shimmering hint of tears in her eyes made my heart clench.

“The worst part about it was knowing that it never should have happened. I fought with my mom that morning – I refused to go with them and I was the reason they got on the road late. It was my fault. And the last words I spoke to them were cruel and hurtful. I can never take that back, you know?”

I nodded. I knew about the finality of death and how it caused regrets and what-ifs to creep inside your brain and refuse to leave. “McKenna.” I squeezed her tiny hands in mine. “That accident wasn’t your fault.” She blinked several times, trying to fight off the tears. It was the damn drunk driver, she had to know that. Seeing McKenna’s pain made me feel guiltier than ever about my own drunk driving arrest. But without that wake up call, I doubted I would have ever met her.

“If I’d just been a good daughter that morning, put my own wants aside and gone with them….” A broken cry escaped her throat. “They’d still be here.”

“Have you heard of survivor’s guilt, McKenna?”

“Knox, don’t,” she warned.

“It wasn’t your fault.” I wish I had better words to say to soothe her pain, but I knew nothing ever would. It wasn’t fair how she’d lost her parents. They hadn’t deserved what happened to them, any more than my mom had deserved the cancer that took her. Instead, I pulled her closer, into the warmth of my body, and held her next to me and let her cry. Her body shook with silent sobs while I held her, wishing there was something I could do. I rubbed her back and let her soak my shirt with tears and whispered to her that it would be okay. Even if whispered softly and meant to soothe, my words were hollow. I knew from experience that a loss that great wasn’t something that ever fully healed. The best I could do was hold her and be there for her. Death and loss made no sense. There wasn’t any explaining it or rationalizing it. An accident like that wasn’t logical, and neither was McKenna’s view on her role. She did nothing to cause their deaths. And I hoped in time I could help her to see that.

After what seemed like close to an hour, her sobs finally quieted and I continued to hold her until the little rasping hiccups stopped, too. She moved from the spot where she’d burrowed in against my neck. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and attempted to move back to her side of the bed.

My arms closed around her, keeping her close. “Never apologize for that. I’m here. And I know what it feels like to lose your parents.”

She nodded. “Thank you for listening and for holding me….”

“Shh. No need to thank me.”

“Knox?”

“Yeah?”

“This, us what does it mean?”

“What do you want it to mean?”

“More,” she admitted softly.

I had no idea what more meant to her, but I could only assume it involved me fully opening myself up to this process. “I like you, McKenna. You have to know I’m not like this with anyone but you.”

“I like you too, but this isn’t going to be like one of your other relationships.”

“So what do we do?” I traced her cheek and watched her eyes. She would have to take the lead, because I was at a total fucking loss for how to have a real relationship.

“I guess we see where this takes us.”

“I’ve never had anything like this, how do you know I’m not going to mess it up?”

“Because you’re a good man, Knox.”

I pressed a kiss to her lips, surprising her. I hadn’t meant the kiss as anything sexual, just a comforting endearment to show her I cared. But McKenna lifted her lips to mine and kissed me back. Her mouth was warm and soft and a jolt of pleasure shot straight to my dick. Now was not the time to get hard. McKenna’s body was nestled in against mine, just the thin layer of her T-shirt and my gym shorts separating the heat of her body from mine. She tossed her top leg over my hip and pressed herself closer, no doubt feeling every hard inch of me. I wanted her, but not like this.

McKenna craved physical touch, but in a much different way than I did. She was seeking something real – a connection, something permanent. I never thought I’d be the one to offer her those things, but seeing how brave she was, how open she was with her needs, made me question everything. I wanted to be what she needed. I just didn’t know how and was pretty certain I’d find a way to fuck it up. Hurting her was out of the question. She’d been through too much already.

We kissed for several long minutes, our tongues moving together, her breathing becoming ragged, and her lower half pressing clumsily into mine as though she was seeking something.

I hadn’t wanted to push things between us tonight, but hell, she’d just broken down and told me she felt responsible for her parents’ deaths. If there was ever a time she needed the distraction of pleasure, it was now. I knew that better than anyone.

“Knox….” she breathed, pressing her hips to mine.

I didn’t respond, my lips moving to her neck to taste her and breathe in her sweet scent. Her hands scrambled along my abs until they reached the waistband of my shorts. I caught her roaming hands and moved them away just before they dipped inside. We’d just agreed to take the first steps toward a relationship and I didn’t want her to think that had anything to do with sex. I wanted her, of course I did, but I wanted more, too.

Sex wasn’t the way to show her how I felt about her. That meant nothing to me. But being near her kissing her, cooking for her, letting her sleep over in my bed. Those were the ways I told her how I felt about her. Only now as her fingers curled into my hair and her lips hovered above mine, I didn’t think she got that. She wanted the physical, too. And it was killing me. Literally killing me not to take her and push her knees apart and sink into her slowly.

She let out a frustrated groan and rubbed her pelvis against mine. Even if I didn’t want her to feel pressured to go further than she wanted, I wouldn’t leave her in this state. Trailing my hand from her hip down to her pubic bone, my fingers brushed against her panties. The damp fabric clung to her skin. “Right here?” She whimpered softly. “Is this where you need me?” She pushed her hips closer, begging me silently. Lifting her panties aside, I pressed my fingertip against her firm little clit and she let out a ragged moan. Something told me I knew her body better than she did herself, and I liked hearing the responses I provoked from her. I liked knowing I was the one responsible for her pleasure. The one taking her over the edge.  It did insane things to me. Even without touching me, she got me rock hard and aching.  Half of me worried we should stop – we’d both been drinking – but none of me wanted to.