Dean tipped my chin to meet his eyes, a combination of hate, hurt, and hope swirling in those blue-grays.

“I’m sorry,” I said, sucking in a breath.

He furrowed his brow. “What the hell for?”

I shrugged. “For what happened. For—”

“Stop,” he cut me off. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong. That asshole did. And the fact that he got in your head and made you feel like you begged for it, like you made it happen…” His gaze went dark as he glanced to the side—he was somewhere far away, doing something very, very bad. The steady rise and fall of his chest brought his attention back to me. He smoothed his fingers over my cheeks. “I didn’t know,” he said. “I didn’t have a clue it was that bad.”

“How could you?” I asked.

“I wish… Damn it. I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“For pushing you. Kissing you.” The words seemed painful coming from his lips. He took a giant step back. “I shouldn’t have… If I would’ve known…”

“Please don’t, Dean,” I said, following him as he retreated. “Don’t treat me like I’m damaged. Breakable. That’s the last thing I want.” I cringed. “Unless that’s the only way you can see me now?”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, his hands locked in place at his sides as I stopped within an inch of his body. “You know that’s not true.”

“I don’t know anything,” I said, shaking my head. “Except for the way I feel when I’m with you.”

“And,” he said, “what do you feel?”

“Safe.”

A sigh flew from his lips as he reached for me again, his hand soft and strong as it slid from my cheek to my neck. “Pixie,” he said, and my entire body reacted to the way his tongue curled around my alias. “All I want to do is erase every bad mark he left on your soul.” He inched his forehead down, leaning it against mine. “But I know you don’t need me to. I know you, Pixie, and you’re strong enough to heal yourself. I’ll never push you. Never ask you for more than you want to give. But, please, let me be here for you. In any way I can.”

A bubbly laugh flew from my lips as I smiled up at him. “I’m not strong right now,” I said, my cheeks flushing. “Because I can’t stop thinking about how good your lips feel on mine.”

Another low growl, this a test of willpower as I popped up on my tiptoes to brush my lips over his.

“Is that…wrong of me?” I asked, sinking back down when he held so still I wasn’t sure he was breathing. I chewed on my lip. “Should I not want this with you? Because it hasn’t even been a year yet?”