Page 87 of Little Deaths

“Maybe some people just aren’t cut out for it. I certainly wasn’t. But I never missed my father more than I did that day. He wasn’t perfect, but he was always in my corner. And I know he would have flown down in a heartbeat to punch Johnathan right in the teeth. Not that I would have let him,” she added, looking almost guilty. “But it’s nice having someone go to bat for you.”

“What about your sister?”

“We talk. Sometimes. But she’s ten years younger and still lives with my mother. So there’s that.”

“Drank the Kool-Aid?”

“Married with two kids.” She twirled the stem of her glass. “Like I said. Perfect daughter.”

The waiter came back with more drinks. This time, Rafe shooed him impatiently away, handing over his wallet. When Donni picked up the third glass, he gently slid it from her fingers and set it out of reach. “You’ve made movies. There’s people who’d kill for that.”

“I also didn’t go to college and there’s nude photos of me on the internet.” Her tone was arch but sad, and a man at the next table looked over curiously. Rafe glared at him and he quickly turned around. “I’m not exactly anyone’s idea of perfection, Rafe.”

“You were for me.” He spoke fiercely, surprising himself. Seeing her so vulnerable made him want to wrap her up in his arms and take her somewhere far, far away. Somewhere the two of them could be lost in darkness and never found.

“Oh yes,” she slurred. “You. Mr. Normal. I’m so glad to have your vote of confidence.”

He half-smiled. Bitchy-drunk Donni was endearing. “What did you see in my father?”

“Why?”

“Because you hid this side of you when you were with him.” Her expression became guarded and he saw her eyes cut to the cocktail glass he’d taken from her. “Why did you marry him?”

“I don’t know. I guess I felt so . . . vulnerable.” She stared past him, her eyes picking up bright gleams of yellow from the lamps. “I’d just had my whole life upended and I was only twenty. Marco was so much older—charming and attractive and strong. I thought he’d protect me. But now, I’m starting to feel like he never saw me, or even cared about me at all.”

I see you, he thought, the desire sparking in him hot and fierce.I’ll protect you.

Oblivious, she said, “I think he thought that because I was young, he could change me. Mold me into his own idea of the perfect woman. Whateverthatwas.”

“It didn’t work.”

“Oh honey, no.” She reached past him for the drink, which made him realize he’d been watching her for so long that he had completely let his guard down. “I’m a fucking grenade.”

???????

The street was wheeling a little as they left The Bird and Bubble. She wouldn’t have chosen such a place because it had the implications of being a date, even though she supposed that that was exactly what this was.

As she clung to Rafe’s arm, she was terrified that someone was going to look into her eyes and recognize every fucked up thing she’d ever done, and she would deserve it because she had failed at everything else she’d tried her hand at in life, be it marriage or motherhood or acting, so why the fuck notthis.

“I’m drunk,” she heard herself say, her voice cracking like chips of ice. “I can’t remember the last time I was this fucking drunk.” But as soon as the words left her mouth, she remembered when she had been, and the thought was enough to make her misstep and nearly go flying.

Rafe’s hand immediately shot to her waist and suddenly they were a tangle of limbs, pressed up against a building’s stone façade. The sharp edges of brick were digging lightly into the open back of her dress, catching on the silk. “Careful.” His eyes were dark, in shadow. “Can you still walk? Or do you need me to take you home?”

“I’m good,” she said defiantly, tensing her bare shoulders in an attempt to still her spinning head. “I just missed a shtep.”

A corner of his mouth twitched and she found it fascinating how mobile it was, with that sharply chiseled bow, and that beguiling firmness. “Hold on to me,” said that inexplicably beautiful mouth. “We’re almost there.”

His arm was solid beneath his shirt. She could feel the contours of his body through the thin cotton. That was when she realized that she was wearing his jacket. At some point between her fall and now, he’d managed to finesse it over her arms.I’m cold, she realized, shivering.Like I’ll never be warm again.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.” Her mind spun with grim possibilities. “You’re not taking me to one of those clubs, are you?”

“Well,” he said, in a low voice. “That’s an idea.”

A strange shiver rippled down her spine. The thought of him touching her like he owned her, too rough for reverence but appreciative all the same, elicited a feverish pulse of heat that made her feel as if she were drowning in flames. “Don’t youfuckingdare,” she choked out.