Downsized Hero 2 Ch 6

"I'm sorry, Cate."

I kept my eyes on the dustpan while Cate swept up the last of the broken glass with the broom, unable to meet her scrutiny. Zoya was in the bedroom chatting with Draco, but I could feel a knot of worry in her bond. I sent her a consoling pulse, letting her feel my affection and gratitude. The worry eased a little, and a rush of warmth, remorse, and the desire to fix everything came back all jumbled together. It made me wonder briefly at our connection given the context of what Draco had said. A hero supports their party, and in turn they support him. I'd have to talk with Zoya later, but for now I needed to focus on Cate.

"N-no, I'm the one who's sorry, Arty." Cate clutched at the broom while I dumped the contents of the dustpan in the trash, gripping the handle like a guardrail. "I shouldn't have let it go as far as it did." I shook my head and walked over to her, and she watched in apprehension. "I don't know why I ..."

I took the broom from her hands and leaned it against the wall.

"W-what," Cate began, then stiffened as she looked up at me, so close I could feel her breath on my skin.

"I'm sorry," I repeated quietly. "I've been a terrible friend. Hell, a terrible human being." I picked up one of her hands and held it in both of mine, struggling to find the words. Cate watched me with her mouth hung open and eyes searching my face. "I don't know why you're still in my life after everything I've dragged you into recently. Or everything I haven't done for the last few years." I kept my eyes on her hand, rubbing gently at her cold skin. She'd always had cool hands, even as kids. I pulled her fingers up and held them against my cheek to feel the pleasant chill.

Cate was silent, but I closed my eyes and simply leaned into her touch, afraid to let her go.

"How could you still have that picture?" My voice didn't shake, but my stomach fluttered with emotions too difficult to parse. I finally looked up at her.

I thought she'd be embarrassed. Or laugh it off. I wouldn't have been surprised if she was livid with rage at my temerity for questioning her. What right would I have?

Instead, I was taken apart by her tender smile and the warmth in her soft gray eyes. Her hand cupped my cheek as if it was made of tissue, delicate and easily torn.

"Arty," she whispered at last. "You were my first love. How could I not?" Her eyes welled up, but the tears didn't fall. Her smile slipped and a self-deprecating breath escaped her throat. "Only love, if I'm being honest."

A memory of broken dishware on the floor. I was kneeling on the ground, blood on my lips, staring at my father. His eyes wild and scared as he stood over me with clenched fists, breathing hard. Jamie's hoarse accusation of betrayal, the last thing she ever said to me. I didn't want to hear that pain in Cate's voice. I didn't want to be that pain to Cate.

I peered into Cate's face, holding her hand in place. "You deserve someone better."

Her smile fell, and I regretted my words immediately. Her hand pulled away, but there was a gravity within those eyes that held me in place.

"There is no one else for me, Arty." Her voice was quiet but firm, as if scolding a child. "Deserve? What about you?" Her words were gentle, like a mother peeling away a bandage. "What do you think you deserve?"

I pulled back involuntarily, a pulse of ice shooting through me. I didn't deserve anything. Certainly not her love. But Cate wouldn't want to hear that. "That's not ..." I stammered, but Cate didn't pause for my response.

"I've watched you try to run away from everything that mattered to you." Sorrow and frustration were etched in her words. "Because of an accident."

Joking about Jamie and me being gay to mom. Jamie freaking out and mom putting it together. Even accidents have consequences.

"My dad kicking Jamie out of the house wasn't a fucking accident. Mom calling her a jezebel whore wasn't an accident." I shot back.

Cate's jaw bunched. "Neither of which were your fault."

"I'm the one who outed her!" I hissed, only barely keeping myself from shouting in the confines of the kitchen.

"No, Arty, she did." Cate was exasperated. "Jamie was so wrapped up in her own insecurities and fears that she overreacted to a stupid joke." I flinched. "Her fears were fully justified, as it turns out. But then she took it out on you. And you accepted the blame."

"I'm not the one who was kicked out and forced to fend for themselves," I spat back, lashing out at myself more than her. Cate wanted me to let it go, but that would mean betraying Jamie all over again. "It's not about me!"

"That's right, it isn't!" she yelled, as if proving her point. "It isn't about you! Your parents ended up being total shits!" I'd never heard Cate be this harsh before. "Yes, Jamie was a victim, but she can't blame you when she's the one who slipped up in front of your mom. You can't stop people you love from hurting each other or themselves. You may be a hero, Arty, but you're not God."

"I don't want to hurt you." Now it was my turn to plead.

"I know. But you will. And I'll hurt you sometimes, too. When it happens, we'll fix it or forgive it. Together." Cate edged closer, putting her hand on my shoulder, attempting to look up into my eyes.

"It's not that simple." I mumbled, my chest tight, evading her look. I wanted what she offered. Through our connection I felt her love attempting to wrap around me like a warm blanket after a snowstorm. But it only fed my anxiety further. I could hurt her so much.

"Isn't it?" A fragile smile returned to her lips. "Simple doesn't mean easy. I should know. I let the boy I loved retreat in misplaced guilt because it was easier than admitting how I really felt. And what I actually wanted." She stood up straighter. "Well, I'm not doing that anymore." She reached out and cradled my face in both hands. "I love you Arty. I want to be part of your life, even if that life includes pain. And gods, and heroes, and watching you screw the brains out of that sexy little freak in the next room." A wild smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Heck, because of that!"

A breathless laugh escaped my guard. "Are you really suggesting I fuck my way to forgiving myself?" I couldn't believe the words coming from this woman I'd known for decades. I couldn't believe I could joke about it. It was absurd, but my anxiety lessened. I felt myself falling into familiar patterns with her, teasing and daring each other, pushing boundaries.

"Is that too much for you, Arty? Feeling performance anxiety?" She sniffed and snickered, pulled back to lean against the kitchen counter with her arms folded. "Only I heard you already did it in front of a goddess, so that can't be it." She put on a pitying expression, lips pouting. "Are you too scared to get busy in front of your childhood friend?"

Unbidden, a wide grin pulled back my lips. "Oh, it's on." I knew it was a risk. I knew this could end very badly and sever my last, real friendship. But Cate was right that avoiding confrontation or involvement hadn't made anyone happy so far. And I wanted Cate to be happy. I owed her that.

The remembered cadence of playground escalation demanded a response. "You think you can handle this?" I folded my arms as well, leaning forward. Locking in.

"I'm hoping to see you handle Zoya." Her lips twitched. Then a hint of seriousness crept in. "I want this, Arty." She licked her lips. "I want you." Her fiery bravado flickered like a nearly spent candle. "Do you want me?"

I did. More than anything. The old clenching in my gut was still there, stoking my fears. But my desire to do right by this amazing and passionate woman, my dearest friend, dampened my objections. I leaned forward, placing my arms to either side of her on the counter. I paused before our lips connected, unsure if this was really the right choice. She looked up at me, eyes large and accepting, with no hint of reluctance or retreat. I resolved to earn the trust I saw there. I crossed that final distance and pressed my lips to hers.

I meant to be light and gentle. Cate had no such reservations.

Her arms entwined around my head and pulled me forward to deepen the kiss. Her mouth parted and I slipped in my tongue to taste her. Cloying and sweet like honey, her tongue wrapped around mine in eager response. My arms moved to her slim hips, feeling her smooth curves beneath her slacks. I pulled her against me, and she mewled enticingly into my mouth. Her mound pressed upwards to my body, hot beneath the thin fabric of her clothing, and I felt myself stir against her.

After a prolonged moment, losing ourselves in our first kiss, Cate put her hand on my chest and pushed me lightly back.

"Okay," she breathed heavily, leaning back again. "Maybe we should call Zoya. I don't want to go any farther without getting everyone on the same page." She looked up at me under her lashes, biting down on her lower lip. "And, uhm, I was serious when I said I wanted to watch. I've been thinking about it since we talked in the car." Her shy smile nearly unmade my control.

"I need to hear the details of this conversation." I laughed shakily, still feeling the weight of my decision. But Cate's and Zoya's happiness had to be worth it. "C'mon," I took her hand and pulled her from the counter. "First let's go tell Zoya she's going to be putting on a show."

I heard movement down the hall. "Are you guys doing it in there?" Zoya's annoyed voice called out. "Because the horny teenager vibes I'm getting from Arty are driving me crazy!"