Rebel (Renegades #2)(53)
Author: Skye Jordan

“A friend…or a girlfriend?” Whitney asked.

“We’re…kinda trying to figure that out.”

“Oh.” Her voice dropped with dread.

Wes shifted on his feet. “Oh, what?”

“Well…how much time do you have? It’s not simple.”

“Can you just give me the Cliff’s notes?”

“Let me ask you this,” Whitney said. “How deep are you in with her?”

Over his head—that was how deep. “Look,” he backpedaled, suddenly feeling sick. “It’s not a big deal. Forget I asked.”

“That deep, huh?”

“Sorta, kinda, not…really…” Yes. That f**king deep.

A moment of silence followed. Wes pulled in a breath to cut off the awkwardness, but Whitney spoke before he could.

“The first thing you need to know is that no two cases of childhood neglect are alike, just like no two people are alike, so the effects are as unique as a fingerprint.”

“But like a fingerprint, there are some overall similarities, right?”

“True. The most important of which—for you—would be the person’s inability to form lasting relationships.”

That statement felt like a punch to his gut. When she didn’t go on, he said, “I’m listening.”

“Neglect is just another form of abuse.” So much compassion filled Whitney’s tone, Wes cringed. He couldn’t stand thinking of Rubi as an abused kid. “We can talk about this more when you’re home, but when a child doesn’t connect with some type of primary caregiver, they lack the ability to truly connect with people. They’re often unable to trust, suffer poor self-esteem, and can’t regulate or even understand their own emotions let alone others’. The longest-lasting effect is the PTSD—”

“Wait. What? She wasn’t physically abused…at least I don’t think…” Fuck, he didn’t know. Every muscle in his body was tight.

“She didn’t have to be. PTSD is an emotional reaction. Because she can’t process them correctly, whenever they come—the fear, anger, sadness—she’s going to want to run, or fight back.”

Wes’s mind was churning, remembering everything he’d learned about Rubi over the last two months, everything that had transpired with her over the last week. He glanced back at the group, where Lexi continued clearing the table, laughing at something Rubi said. “What if she has a really good friend? One she’s had for a decade? Someone who’s like a sister to her?”

“That’s a good sign that she can hold a relationship together. But it’s a woman-to-woman relationship, different from the way a woman exposes herself to a man when she’s in love. Romantic relationships are typically the perfect storm for these people, Wes. No smooth sailing.”

Wes’s gut felt shredded now. “Are they… I don’t know… I know this isn’t the right word, but curable? I mean…can someone be rewired?”

“You must really like her,” Whitney said, her voice soft.

Wes didn’t confirm or deny. He was feeling a little fragile himself at the moment.

“Of course there’s hope, Wes. I’m a psychologist. If I didn’t believe I was helping people every day after all I’ve gone through to get here, I’d throw myself off a bridge. That said…after years of treating patients with childhood trauma, my advice to you—as my brother, whom I love and want to see happy—would be to back out as quickly and quietly as possible.”

Yeah…no. Too late for that.

“So,” he said, switching away from the uncomfortable topic, “do you need my flight info?”

“No. Mom gave it to me.” Squealing echoed from the background. “Oh boy. Sounds like they’re having more fun with the dog. I better go. See you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait,” Wes said, half-serious, half-dreading. “Bye.”

He tossed the Frisbee one more time for Rodie as his sister’s words lay heavily in his gut. But his optimistic side kept fighting on Rubi’s behalf. He picked out all Rubi’s awesome qualities, justified and rationalized backward, forward, sideways, and diagonally to give her the benefit of the doubt. To tell himself he could be the one who was different for her.

But his other side doubted. And dreaded. And second-guessed his decision to start this sexual affair. A sexual affair that had instantly turned into something far more for Wes.

“Dessert,” Lexi called from the porch.

Wes waited for Rodie to return with the Frisbee, then started up the beach toward the house.

As he approached, Rubi closed her computer and met his gaze. Her eyes sparkled. Her smile heated. She leaned on the table and rested her chin in her palm. “Wes likes ice cream.”

He instantly flashed back to her spread out over the kitchen counter, her gorgeous skin contrasted against the light granite, chocolate ice cream smeared over her already luscious body.

As he neared, Rubi’s gaze remained on his, a combination of soft, sweet, and starving. Knowing she was remembering too blew the discomfort away like a breeze, and all the emotions that had broken through the dam just days ago flooded back in.

Oh yeah. He was tripping over this woman.

At the edge of the table, he pulled his phone from his pocket, then planted his hands and leaned down until his forehead touched hers. “I love that look in your eyes,” he whispered. “What are you thinking about?”

One corner of her mouth tilted. “About you. In the shower. How incredibly handsome you looked with your hair wet and off your face. That wickedly intense expression in the moment.” She lowered her voice and brought her mouth toward his ear. “The thought makes me wet.”

His heart thumped so hard he didn’t hear Lexi set down the bowl of strawberries at his elbow. He waited until she’d turned away before he whispered, “Want to stay with me tonight?”

She leaned back enough to meet his eyes.

When she didn’t answer, he added, “Rodie can stay, too. I’ll even let him sleep on the bed. Just not between us.”

Her gaze searched his a moment before she said, “That’s…not really my thing.”

“Neither is f**king a guy more than once,” he said, keeping his voice private. “Or sex with no condom. But you’ve blown through those ideas with flying colors.”

She pressed a hand to his cheek and turned her head to kiss his lips. He wasn’t sure why, but her kissing him in front of Jax and Lexi sent his hopes skyrocketing. “I’ll think about it.”