CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR Luke

The center of the compound was quiet when I darted across the expansive graveled area. Once I made it to the main hall, I stood in the dark against the building, looking for any signs of life. Sure that I was alone, I tried a door into the kitchen, looking for access to a phone.

Surprisingly, the door was unlocked, and I slipped inside, catching the time as half-past ten on the large wall clock. I worried that calling Tate this late would upset him, but I was desperate to see him.

Since our date the night before, I could not get him out of my mind. He was everywhere in my head as I relived kissing him. Holding Tate in my arms ignited something in me I couldn't suppress, no matter how hard I tried.

Pulling his business card from my pocket, I reached for a phone that was only used to call outside suppliers, and nervously dialed his number. At three rings, I lifted my hand to hang up just as his voice came over the receiver.

"Hello?"

"It's me, Tate," I whispered.

"Luke? Are you okay?" he asked. "Why are you whispering?"

"I'm on a phone I'm not allowed to use," I replied. "I miss you, Tate. I'm hurting and sick to my stomach."

"You're sick?" he asked.

"I don't know what it is," I said. "I'm thinking about you all the time and it hurts inside when I do."

"What can I do to help?"

My ask was a big one, and I worried that a no from him could destroy me. "Is there any way…" I began, losing my confidence and wondering what had possessed me to call him this late. "Could you…"

"Take a breath, Luke," he said, using a soothing voice that comforted my nerves. "What do you need?"

"I need you," I confessed. "I need to see you right now. I'm sorry, Tate, but I really do."

"Are you at the ranch?"

"Yes, but I could walk to the bakery if you could come get me."

"I'll be there in less than an hour," he stated.

"You're sure?" I replied, feeling relieved as well as guilty. "I'm sorry I can't take a truck."

"Listen to me," he began. "I want to see you, too. Go to the bakery and I'll get there as fast as I can."

We hung up, and I had the urge to bawl like a baby. He wanted to see me, too.

The drive to Tate's loft was spent holding hands. We said little on the drive, but I felt my calling him from the ranch had both of us on edge. I felt bad and wondered if I was bothering him. I couldn't speak for him, but assumed he'd felt sorry for me, so he came to get me.

We pulled into his underground parking, and he turned the car off, turning to me. "How long can you stay?" he asked.

"The night, I hoped."

"What about tomorrow?" he asked. "The rules. The concerns of others?"

"Remember when I told you I understood the risks of courting an outsider?" I asked. Tate nodded. "This is one of those risks."

He smiled. "I'm glad you called."

"Yeah?" I asked. "Honestly?"

"Honest. I missed you too, Luke."

Tate showed me the bedroom I could sleep in if it helped me feel better about the arrangement. After mentioning that I needed a shower, he pointed out the attached bathroom and shower I could use, laid gym shorts and a tank top on the toilet seat and closed the door behind him.

I'd never been naked in a home that wasn't on the compound, so showering was a huge step for me. I had to trust that he wouldn't come into the bathroom, as well as wear the clothing he'd asked me to wear. He hadn't insisted but did say I might feel more comfortable if I wore his clothes.

Stepping from the bedroom, I found Tate relaxing on a sofa. "I'm finished showering," I said, unsure what he thought about how I was dressed.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "Look at you, handsome."

My heart melted each time he referred to me as handsome. I wasn't sure I'd ever get over the feeling when he complimented me, something I was unaccustomed to. Tate stood and came to face me, reaching a hand to my neck.

I jerked away and assumed I'd hurt his feelings by how he reacted. "Sorry," I muttered. "I need a warning sometimes, is all," I added.

He returned his hand to his side. "And that's okay," he assured. "This is new to you, Luke. I just want you to be comfortable around me. And please remember what I said before. I will not hurt you intentionally. As long as you feel okay sharing what you're feeling, we'll do great."

"I'm not sure why I called," I confessed. "You probably require more notice, right?"

Tate held his hand toward me, doing his part to help me feel more comfortable. Once I connected, he led me to the sofa, motioning me to sit beside him. We continued holding hands. I sensed he was waiting for me to relax and feel okay with how close we were to each other.

"Can you tell me what you were feeling before you called?"

"Worried," I blurted out, looking away. Tate said nothing, so I continued. "I felt unwell, to be honest. Like I had to see you, Tate." I pressed my hand against my heart. "I hurt in here," I acknowledged.

"And what do you feel now?" he asked.

"Afraid."

Tate's eyes filled with compassion, and he adjusted how he was sitting, turning toward me. "Can you explain what it is you're afraid of?"

There were a million things that frightened me. So many nightmares endured for years that I wanted to forget. But this wasn't that. "This," I said, motioning between us. "This scares me. What I'm feeling inside scares me. Not having this scares me even more. That's a lot, right?"

"What if I told you that you could have this?" he asked. "That we could work on ways to make things less scary for you? And that… I'm afraid too?"

"I'm afraid of something else," I confessed, pulling my hand back to my lap and staring at the five-digit duo as they battled each other. "Maybe you'll want sex and then I'll let you down."

If he was offended or shocked by my words, he hid it well. Instead, he held his hand out again, palm up, asking me to reengage. I accepted his kindness, using my free hand to play with a loose thread on my shorts.

"Hey," he whispered. "Can you look at me for a moment?"

I looked up and recognized the man I'd started to know better with each meeting. His expression seemed patient and kind-hearted—like he always showed when I seemed unsure about something. The thing about Tate that I liked so much was how he never spoke down to me. He didn't act like he was the adult, and I was the child. I felt whole and respected by him—like he saw me as an equal despite my age and inexperience.

"Do you agree that honesty is best for any relationship?" he asked. I nodded my agreement. "Good, because I'm going to be very honest with you right now, Luke."

"I'd prefer that," I replied.

"You are correct that I want to have sex with you," he stated. "If you and I are going to build a relationship based on trust, then you need to know that I am attracted to you and have an expectation that we will be sexual."

He was direct, for sure. As anxious as I was after his declaration, I also needed him to know I wanted to have sex with him, too. My struggle would be how to express that I wanted to have sex without revealing what I'd done.

My experience with sex was limited to my experiences with Franklin, and I knew I wouldn't be able to do what Franklin did to me. What he did hurt, and I could not see how I would ever enjoy that kind of sex.

"And you'll be patient with me?" I asked, not revealing the fear of what Franklin had done. "You'll let me get used to being with someone I like very much?"

"Just between you and me," he answered, winking. "The discovery as we explore one another will be a truly wonderful thing. A safe journey that will make you feel at ease and, I hope, protected."

"Thank you, Tate," I said. "Can kissing be enough for a while? And then you can show me the other stuff."

He held his arms apart and smiled. "I could kiss you for an eternity, mister," he teased. "And I've got all night, it seems."