Despite your past relationships, Cal always knew exactly what you needed. It took you no time to warm up to him and open up—it was odd, considering you were typically a very reserved and closed off person. He knew you’d been mistreated in the past—strung out and misled and taken advantage of. All you needed was someone to be gentle with you.

He promised himself he’d be that person. No matter what. He’d fight for you, every single time. No matter how many times you pulled away. He knew you didn’t mean to—knew it was a defense mechanism your brain had came up with in an attempt to keep your heart safe. He couldn’t blame you.

Your relationship was moving slowly, but he couldn’t complain. A year in, and you two were just getting to second base—that was, until you pulled away and exhaled a shaky breath. He understood. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed, reaching out and cupping your face in his hands. Gentle. Tender. “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”