Wild Tendy (IceCats Book 2) Read online

She swallows hard, and a look of pure horror covers her face. It’s almost as if she’s about to cry.

  “Aviva?”

  “I need to tell you something.”

  I lift up a bit more. “Okay?” She looks so unsure of herself as she glances away. I take her jaw, bringing her eyes back to mine. “Don’t hide.”

  She presses her lips together as her eyes search mine. “Remember when I was talking about that guy I used to be with?”

  “The one you changed the subject on?”

  “Yeah. Him. Mike.” Aviva’s voice breaks a bit, and her face changes so quickly. Gone is the sex kitten that was about to rock my world, replaced by an anxiety-ridden woman. “He was around when my mom died from breast cancer, and he helped me through that.”

  I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. I just watch as she struggles to find her words. “When I said I think he felt sorry for me, it’s because after she died, like only about six weeks later, we found out that I carry the same cancerous gene she had. Then Jaylin was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer.”

  “Fucking hell.”

  “Exactly,” she says, and when the tears gather in her eyes, I feel my stomach twist. “Well, Jaylin had to get her breasts removed, and since I didn’t want to get cancer because I didn’t want Callie to have to go through everything again, I did the same.”

  Her eyes search mine, and I must be an idiot. “Okay, I know this is a serious moment. But I must be super horny because I’m not following. I know that makes me a jackass, but goddamn, you’re so hot. So yeah, what are you saying?”

  She swallows hard, and then in the smallest, most shattering voice, she whispers, “I don’t have breasts.”

  Nope, not horny. Just an idiot.

  Chapter Twelve

  Aviva

  Nico pulls his brows together as his eyes search mine, and I see the confusion in his brown depths. My heart is jackhammering in my chest, so hard that my vision is shaky. I feel as if I almost can’t breathe. I know I am, but each breath hurts as I draw it in. My chest is tight as I stare at him. I want to look away, but his fingers still hold my jaw, and I don’t think he’d allow me. Since having my double mastectomy, I’ve never had to tell a man about it. I’ve never gotten close enough to a man to allow him to know. With Mike, he knew and we went at it. We never spoke of it, and most of the time, I wore a shirt to bed with him. I didn’t plan on telling Nico, but here I am. I want to live, and for that to happen, I have to share this damaged part about me.

  I’m just terrified he’ll be disgusted.

  “You don’t have boobs?”

  I press my lips together as I look down at his mouth. It’s swollen from our kisses, and damn it, I want to kiss him again. I don’t want to talk about this. “I had a double mastectomy a couple months after I lost my mom.”

  “That’s where they cut off your boobs?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, you have nothing?”

  My lips quiver, and I feel the pain of loss all over again. “Nothing.”

  I glance up at him just in time to see him look down at my chest, and when he pokes my boob, I want to laugh. “What is this?”

  “A fake boob. Rubber, so that it looks like I have something,” I say in almost a whisper. I’m utterly mortified. Why I thought I was ready for this is beyond me. I was so ready to jump with him back at the pub. I wanted to live like Jaylin does, but I forgot what that entails. It means I have to show my whole fucked-up self, and I don’t think I’m ready for that. “Maybe I should go.”

  He squishes his brows together as his gaze meets mine. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. But before I can lock my arms tight, he stops me. He pulls my hands away and laces our fingers together. “Aren’t you grossed out?”

  “No. Not at all,” he says simply, his eyes burning into mine. “Do you want this?”

  I swallow hard. I’m vibrating everywhere. “Yes.”

  “Then why the hell would you want to leave?”

  I feel the heat all over my face, and I hate the tears that are gathering in my eyes. “I’m embarrassed.”

  “By what?”

  I shrug, and I refuse to cry. I’ve cried enough over my misfortune, over losing my mom. While this moment, opening myself up to him, may be like ripping a Band-Aid off a wound that won’t heal, I can’t give that wound the power to own me. I meet his gaze with all the strength I can muster as I inhale shakily. “The situation and who you are. You can have anyone with boobs—”

  “Stop assuming things about me.”

  I give him a look. “Nico, you were on Tinder. A place full of beautiful women.”

  “And none of them caught my attention. It was a beautiful woman who rammed her car into my ass who did.”

  I bite my lip. “I just feel you’ll be disgusted by me.”

  Compassion fills his features as he gathers my face in his hands. “Aviva, I don’t want your boobs. They weren’t what drew me to you. It was you. All of you. I want you.”

  My lip quivers as a tear escapes. “No one has ever said that to me.”

  “Their loss, my gain,” he whispers as he leans in, pressing his lips to mine.

  I squeeze my eyes shut as our lips move together. When he pulls away, he cups my face and runs his thumbs along my jaw. He straddles my hips as he sits up before moving his hands up my arms to my shoulders. His fingers play with the string that holds my halter together, and I can feel every inch of him growing harder by the second. As he slowly unties the top of my halter, his eyes never leave mine. There is something in the way he looks at me and stares into my eyes. It feels as if he is looking into my soul. No one has ever looked at me like that or made me feel like this. As he slowly drags my halter down, I want to stop him, but something keeps me from doing so. I don’t know if it’s the kindness in his eyes, his sweet words, or my horniness. I’m not sure, but I am sure I want this.

  I want to live.

  I hold my breath as he reveals my chest. I watch his face, waiting for the repulsion as he uncovers my taped-on rubber boobs. I take a deep breath when he reaches for one of them, pulling it off with ease. I watch as he holds it in his hand, squeezing it before a smirk comes across his face. Is he laughing at me?

  “Can I borrow this?”

  I scrunch up my face. “What?”

  “I want to beam Chandler in the face with it. It would be so funny.”

  If this was his way of breaking the tension, he succeeded. Within mere seconds, I’m laughing from the gut. He grins down at me before pulling off the other one and tossing them to the side of the bed.

  “If they go missing, it wasn’t me,” he says, and I grin. That is, until he touches my scars. I’m holding my breath again as he runs his fingers along the scars. They’re faded and only little white lines, but that isn’t what embarrasses me. It’s the sunken-in part of my chest where my breasts should be. He moves his gaze to mine as he whispers, “You’re so strong, Aviva.”

  I shake my head, feeling the rush of shame. “I’m not. I was just scared. I didn’t want to go through what my mom did. I didn’t want Callie to live through two deaths from the same disease.”

  “I feel that makes you strong.”

  I shake my head once more, ignoring the sensation of his finger along my scar. No one, and I mean no one, has ever touched me like this. I feel so vulnerable but, at the same time, so safe. “No. If anything, I’m a coward because I didn’t try to fight.”

  “You are not a coward, not even in the slightest,” he says with such disdain on his face and in his voice. I’ve waited for the disgust, but it wasn’t from how I looked; it was from what I said. “You are a fighter, Aviva. You went through this to protect yourself and your sister. I don’t see that as cowardly.”

  He’s got me feeling a certain kind of way, but I won’t ignore the truth. “But I disfigured myself, made it so I can never breastfeed a baby, and then hid behind these scars for years to keep myself