Revived (Page 47)

“Which we need to rectify very soon.”

That pulls my thoughts in a different direction. “You want to take me out on a date?” A smile edges my lips.

“Yes, and soon.” Leaning his head down, he kisses the tip of my nose before resting his head back on the pillow. “You have nothing to fear, India. I won’t hurt Jett or you. I promise. I think Jett is a great kid, and I can’t wait to get to know him better.” His chest rises, lifting me with it, as he takes a deep breath. “I have never been in love before, India, so believe me, I am not taking our relationship lightly.”

“You’ve never been in love?” I eye him skeptically. “Ever?”

“No.”

“How is that possible?”

I know I’ve never been in love before him, but Leandro has been around a lot more women than I have men. I just can’t believe he’s never fallen in love with one of them before.

He shrugs. “I waited for it to happen. It never did. Now, I know why.”

My mouth dries. Licking my lips, I ask, “Why?”

His eyes darken with emotions. He traces his index finger over my cheek, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Because I was waiting for you.”

Can your heart dance in your chest? Because mine currently feels like it is.

“I was waiting for you, too.” Resting up on my elbow, I touch my hand to his face.

“You have been in love before…with Jett’s father?”

“No.” I strongly shake my head. “I was young and naive. I thought I was in love, but I had no clue what that truly felt like.” I fix my eyes on him. “Now, I know. The way I feel about you…I’ve never felt anything like it before. That’s why I’m willing to risk everything on us.”

His fingers slide into my hair. Pulling my mouth down to his, he gently kisses me. “I love that we are each other’s firsts.”

I smile against his lips. “Me, too,” I whisper. “But…”

“There’s that damn but again,” he growls over my lips.

Moving my head back so I can look in his eyes, I say, “I’m sorry, but while we’re on the subject of Jett’s father, I think you need to know something about him.”

A dark shadow passes over his features. “I’m listening.”

I swallow down past my nervous. “Jett’s father is in prison.”

That gets his attention. “Okay. What is he in prison for?”

I feel like I need to give Leandro all my focus when I say this, so I sit up beside him. Tucking my legs around my bum, I pull the cover around me in modesty. Leandro immediately pulls the cover down.

“I feel naked.”

“You are. Naked or not, there is nothing you need to hide from me or can’t tell me.”

I feel wide open. Like he can see through to the very soul of me.

I nervously lick my lips. “Jett’s father, Paul, is in prison for statutory rape, rape, and sexual assault.”

His eyes widen, and anger envelops his features. He sits up, putting his back against the headboard. His eyes close together tightly. His jaw clenching, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Did he…rape you?”

I touch my hand to his face, my thumb smoothing over the fingers pinching his nose, until he lowers his hand and opens his eyes.

“He didn’t rape me. But I was the statutory rape part of his sentence.” I take a fortifying breath. “I was fifteen when we started sleeping together. Paul was thirty.” My gaze lowers. “When Kit and I were babies, we were abandoned, left in the doorway of an old factory building, where we were found by the caretaker. Kit’s name came from the man who found us. My name came from the building—India House. It’s in Manchester, where we’re from originally.”

“Jesus, India. I am so sorry that happened to you and Kit.” His hand curls around mine, squeezing.

“It’s fine. I found my peace with it long ago. I had Kit. He’s the best brother a girl could wish for. But, back then, Kit and I were difficult to care for. We were both angry kids, Kit more so than me. He was always getting in trouble—mostly from defending me. I was a hell-raiser when I was younger.”

“I don’t see that in you.” He smiles.

“I’m different now. I had to change when I became a mother. I became responsible. But back then, I didn’t care about anyone, apart from Kit. So, we never settled anywhere, bouncing from foster home to foster home. It was hard enough to be placed and then add in the fact that there was the two of us together. If they ever tried to split us up, we’d just run away and come back to each other, so they finally stopped trying. Then, we started getting older, and people don’t want troublesome teenagers. Eventually, we ended up in a foster home for wayward kids. We were there when Paul started working as one of the caregivers.”

“He was your caregiver? Jesus fucking Christ,” he grinds out, thumping his head back against the headboard, his hand tightening around mine.

“I was young and impressionable. He spent a lot of time with me, listened to me, made me believe he really cared about me. Back then, I didn’t know he was grooming me. I was fifteen, and I just wanted to be loved. I didn’t realize I was looking for it in the wrong place.” I squeeze Leandro’s hand, which still has a firm hold of mine. “I’d been sleeping with Paul for about two years when I found out I was pregnant with Jett. When I went to tell him”—I suck in a breath at the memory that still gets to me, even now—“I found him in bed with someone else. She was a girl who was new to the home we lived in. She was fourteen, a year younger than I was when he started sleeping with me.”