It meant pushing her, but in a different way. He only wanted to take care of her. To allow her to lean on someone else, something he was certain she’d never done. She was a solitary figure, a reflection of himself in many ways. Two lonely, scarred souls. Maybe together they could heal.
Somehow he had to break past her barriers, follow the path to the very heart and soul of her and prove that she could trust him. That she could rely on him, that he’d never willingly hurt her. Nothing in his current thoughts even alluded to s*x. That could wait. Forever if necessary.
This wasn’t about s*x or making love. He couldn’t very well lie and say that he didn’t want her, that he didn’t lie awake at night aching with need to make love to her. But she wasn’t ready. And when the time did come, he knew
