Below is the alternate scene I promised y'all! You are the first and only people to see it. I will include it in a blog post on my website in several weeks. In the meantime, here's a bit of context if you haven't picked up your copy of Touch Me Softly yet. The original scene in the published book is from Rafe's POV. Wyn is now running scared after a monumental event between them. Now, you get to see it from her side. #somanyfeels
Wyn
Silence. It was deafening on the car ride home. Not too unusual for us, but the underlying discomfort was new. I realized it solely came from me, but I couldn’t control the feelings swelling up. Boiling over.
I had no clue what I was doing anymore. Last night was like nothing I’d ever felt before and it scared the hell out of me. So very different than my traumatic night with Nick, Rafe made me want things. He made me believe I could have them too, when I knew they just weren’t in the cards for me.
I folded my arms against my chest as Rafe looked down at me. We stood at my front door, the walk from his truck a blur. I didn’t know what to say.
“Can we maybe go inside for a few minutes?” he asked. Rafe followed close behind as I opened my door and something in me snapped.
“I don’t know how to take you sometimes, Rafe.” I marched further into the living room. My filter completely gone. All of my rambling and muddied thoughts coming to the fore.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rafe asked in a tone I didn’t particularly appreciate, every little thing fraying my shaky nerves. I watched as he visibly inhaled and exhaled. Well, good for him that he can breathe. It feels like I’ve been choking on my own existence for the past year. “I’ve treated you with the utmost respect, Wyn. Just like my grandfather taught me to treat women. What’s going on?”
How the hell should I know? I wanted to yell. Scream. Throw stuff. All over the place, I was in too deep with him.
“What do you see in my anyway, huh? I’m not the type of girl who gets this.” A confused expression crossed his face and I couldn’t stomach it. Or what I was doing to us. I looked away from his piercing green eyes that always called to me. Staring at my feet I murmured, “I don’t know what you want from me, Rafe.”
But that was a lie, I told myself and him. Rafe wanted me to be better than I was. He wanted me to be ready for something I hadn’t even expected.
“Wyn, I want you to trust me.” He pushed his thick hair behind his ears. And I realized this was the end for us. If I were honest with myself, it was the very last thing I wanted, but there was no way to stop this one-way train we were on.
I needed time. The thought made me scoff in my head. All I’ve had the past year is time. Time to think... stew. Time to lose myself in a deep, dark hole of self-loathing, despair and regret.
“I want you to stop second guessing us.”
“I don’t know if I can!” I yelled. Rafe asked for too much too soon. I turned my back to him, squeezing my eyes shut tight. Wishing I still slept in his arms like earlier today. It was already too late for that.
No going back.
Rafe was angry with me and he had every right to be. But I had a right to be angry too. And scared. The fear still had the power to shake me—knock me down.
“Talk to me, Wyn.” His plea hit me like a ton of bricks. A hand stroked my shoulder before his fingers grazed my chin, lifting my face to his. “I’m right here, sweetheart.” I was breaking all over again. This time it was so much worse because it involved my heart. His forehead settled against mine and I absorbed his heat. “Please talk to me.” I want to so badly, Rafe. You have no idea.
Next thing I knew his lips grazed mine, feeling a spark all too familiar when he touched me. I gasped and Rafe ravaged my mouth with such hunger. And I let him.
After a long moment drowning in his soul-searing kiss, I reluctantly pulled away. “I’m scared, Rafe.”
“You don’t think I’m scared too? Believe me when I tell you I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” His words held little comfort. “Yeah it’s scary, but good too.”
“It’s not the same,” I said. He didn’t get it. Wouldn’t understand. “I’m damaged goods, Rafe.”
“No, I don’t believe that. Not for a fucking minute,” his denial resolute. “You’re perfect in my eyes.”
His sweet words tried to burrow into my soul to take root, and yet they had a difficult time. I was stubborn, for sure. Rafe was good to me—for me—and I still held myself back in all the ways that mattered, last night notwithstanding.
His warm hands caressed my cheeks, grabbing my attention again. “You can’t deny this thing between us. I know you want this,” he whispered before kissing me passionately.
My surroundings blurred.
“We both know you wanted it.” His lips scraped against my wet cheek and then he rolled off.
No, no, no. I don’t want this. Not again.
My brain knew the lips teasing mine now didn’t belong to Nick, but the horrible memory held me in its grasp. Rafe’s attention was ravenous yet gentle. Always. But my mind was made up. I couldn’t brush off the feelings overflowing inside me. I panicked.
“I said no.” Squished between our chests, my hands balled up into fists. I felt trapped against Rafe, so I struggled. Unclenching my fists, I lay my palms on his pecs and pushed with all the strength I had left. A strength I lacked with Nick. I didn’t need it with Rafe, but he continued to pressure me.
I needed space. “You keep pushing and pushing and pushing.” Finished. I was done being manhandled, even if it was by someone I cared about deeply, maybe even love. I love him.
Then why are you being this way? My inner voice railed.
The walls around me were closing in, cutting off my air supply. I’m suffocating.
Inside, all of this rage, fear and want strangled me, chipping away piece by fragile piece. I couldn’t take it anymore. Not one hundred percent for a while now, it fucking hurt.
“Wyn. Sweetheart? I don’t underst—”
A sob almost left my lips at his soft endearment. “Please go.”
Rafe appeared utterly confused. He took a step toward me. Not meaning to, I flinched, moving away from him. Rafe immediately froze right there in front of me.
“Wyn, did I hurt you? Scare you? Tell me what I did wrong, babe.” The hits just keep on coming, don’t they?
His voice faltered—cracked—when he asked me those questions, imploring me to talk to him. Say something. Anything. Except I couldn’t give him what he wanted. The words wouldn’t form.
“Please just go, Rafe. I-I-I don’t think I can do this right now.” I waved a finger between us, mumbling words that hurt as I uttered them. Every little thing right now brought that night—that bastard’s face, his touch—to the surface. I didn’t want Rafe to see me like this.
“I’m not the bastard who hurt you.” My breath caught. Rafe doesn’t know. He can’t, can he? Even so, his parting shot hit its mark. I barely heard the sentences that followed.
“I wish you’d see that, Wyn. Wish you’d trust me even a little.” Glancing up, I saw that Rafe hesitated at the door, his hand squeezing the knob. “Sweetheart, I hope you trust someone with what’s going on with you. What’s making you close yourself off. Call me when you’re ready, Wyn. I’ll wait however long you need me to.”
Then he left.
Seconds after my front door clicked shut, I collapsed. One arm of the sofa softened my fall. I broke down then.
The best thing to ever happen to me just left. And I pushed him away.
What the hell did I just do?
Let me know what you think. I'd love to hear from you! And if you'd like to read more Wyn and Rafe, then pick up your copy of Touch Me Softly today.
