Logan's expression softened. "Then why not tell me? Trust me with your feelings, Jean."
Jean looked away, chewing the inside of her cheek. "I'm not… like other women. I never knew what it meant to feel safe. Or wanted. Or touched... without fear. You make it harder to pretend I'm fine."
The vulnerability in her voice knocked the wind out of him. He closed the distance between them, gently lifting her chin with his hand.
"I don't want you to pretend," he whispered. "Not with me."
Her eyes searched his… not for love, not yet… but for the promise of understanding. Of something real.
"I don't know how to do this," she confessed. "Be with someone. Want someone."
"You don't have to know," Logan said softly, leaning in just enough so she could feel the warmth of his breath. "We'll learn together. On our terms."
Jean swallowed. "You really won't rush me?"
His thumb gently stroked her jaw. "Never."
