Page 78 of Uncharted Desires
She lifted her head, wiping at her nose with her arm.
“I do believe you,” she said between whimpers. “But for how long?”
Every ounce of confidence he had given her was laying shattered on the floor at her feet.
West’s hand fisted in the hair at her nape, moving her to face him, not rough but just enough to prove a point. Her body went on high alert. “I know you didn’t grow up in the most encouraging environment, and I certainly haven’t helped things, but what is it going to take for you to believe me?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. I’ve battled this feeling my whole life, and just when I felt that I could be enough for you, a woman you’d be proud to have by your side, I find out you lied to me.” He didn’t say anything, waiting for her, somehow knowing there was more. Kat took a deep breath, bracing for the truth she would give him; her truth, the raw and unfiltered side.
“I’ve never been enough, always hovering on being something, but never quite there. Always average, not short or fat, just average. Not sporty enough, not graceful enough, just slightly musical, but not talented enough to make it in this business, not really. Not White enough, but not Native enough, my hair’s not straight enough, but it’s not gorgeous with thick curls either. I have a good singing voice, but not great, and while my brothers have families and careers and direction, I have nothing. If I stand up for myself, I’m too loud and obnoxious, but if I don’t say anything, I’m too quiet and a pushover. I blamed you for ruining my career when, in truth, I ruined it long ago when I became complacent with the way things were and never once tried again. You didn’t want me years ago, and now I find out it was easy for you just to replace me with someone else that night. I wasn’t enough then. Why would I ever be enough for you now?”
West’s eyes softened, his hand coming up to cradle her face. “How do you not see the woman I see? The woman who heals snakebites or catches a fish with a makeshift spear. Who took a bullet that surely would have hit me and then sewed herself up, and then saved me from being blown up? Who wants to bring change to a world that is so resistant to it, and yet fights anyway? The only person who would tell me when a song sounded like crap. Shit, Kat, how could I not want to be with someone like you? To me, you will always be enough. You encompass every piece of me, and I can’t get rid of you because it would be like cutting off a piece of myself. There is nothing I want more than to love you. All of you.”
She sucked in a breath at his words. It would be so easy for her to forgive him. To trust that he would put her above all others. That she could continue to be this strong, assertive, confident woman who had appeared on the island.
It would have been so easy, but something pulled at Kat, telling her she was still missing something of herself.
At her silence West sighed in resignation. “I will apologize for the rest of my life for nine years ago if that’s what you want. I was stupid. I wanted you that night. I couldn’t have you. I’m not proud of who I was, but please don’t hold that against the man I am now.”
She couldn’t stop them. The tears spilled out, one after the other, and West held her as they fell. The rush of feeling loved for who she was, along with all they had been through over the past few weeks, culminated in one giant emotional spillover, and Kat needed to think. She couldn’t process.
After who knows how long in West’s sturdy arms, Kat managed to pull away. “I need time to think,” she said between sniffles.
He stroked her hair but said nothing.
“I can’t make any decisions right now.”
West stood slowly, his powerful body hovering over her. “You’re scared, and there is nothing I can say or do that is going to change that. When you’re ready to take that leap with me, I’ll be there.” He bent down, kissing the top of her head before walking toward the door.
He might be right, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She had to think, and she had to think away from him. His presence was too overpowering for her to think clearly.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking up at him.
West shook his head as he turned to leave. “This isn’t over.” And then he was gone. The silence engulfed her as she cried the rest of the night until there were no more tears left inside her.
The flight from Jakarta to L.A. was interminable. While Tommy Monroe had secured them first-class seats, he had stupidly assumed that West and Kat would want to sit together while he sat next to her mother in the row across the aisle.
She was exhausted and pretended to sleep, but sleep was elusive with West’s body radiating all his powerful maleness next to her. She wanted to reach out and apologize to him. Tell him she trusted him, that she loved him more than the air she breathed, and that she wanted him to hold her forever, but she couldn’t, her reasons still held true.
What life would she have with him? She’d forever be the woman of Weston Monroe, and while there were plenty of women who would be fine with that, Kat wasn’t one of them. She had to have something of her own, something she’d accomplished on her own for herself by her own merits, not her boyfriend’s or husband’s. She was done spending her life on the sideline.
Not to mention all her other insecurities with all the women that surrounded him daily. She would have to learn to deal with that if she did end up trusting him. Maybe she could, but building that trust back was hard for her.
She watched him through slitted eyes as he read a book. How did he know she found men who read incredibly sexy? It was almost as hot as watching him play his guitar. His sinewy forearms called to her with each turn of the page, and she couldn’t stop looking at how his big hands handled the book with as much care as he would a lover. Her body ached for his touch, and she felt warmth pooling in her core. Why oh why was she cursed to be stuck on this plane for eighteen hours with this man?
He was reading the latest spy thriller, probably getting into the mindset of the character he was going back to play. Which reminded her of why she was mad. He’d chosen acting over her. Well, okay maybe not acting, but he knew her thoughts on the matter, and he had decided he didn’t care, so what else would he disregard? He’d had a chance to change alternative music, especially for women and people of color, to make it a more inclusive space, but he was throwing it away and Kat couldn’t let go of her disappointment.
Eventually, sleep took over, and she awoke to an announcement on the PA asking them to prepare for landing. She felt the weirdest sensation at the thought of returning home. She hadn’t been in the United States for over six months.
They had been in Europe touring, and then her trip to Bali, plus her island survival time. It was strange to be back. She figured not much would have changed; no doubt it would be as divisive as ever—a place that needed more love than hate.
She sat up, gathering her things, and noticed West was looking at her.
“Kat.” His gorgeous voice rumbled through her. Even in the few hours they hadn’t spoken to each other she had missed it. “I meant what I said, this isn’t over. I’ll give you your space, but then we’re going to talk.”
She nodded, unsure of what to say. He wouldn’t hunt her down in Iowa, would he?
His hand came under her chin, lifting her face to his, and he kissed her lightly, his lips there, then gone. “I mean it, Kat. Don’t make me hunt you down.”