Everything hurt.

Lillian had tossed and turned for most of the night, kept awake by the thought of everything she could’ve—and should’ve—said. There were so many better responses she could’ve made. She could have walked away earlier—or later—than she actually did. The doubt that she had really thought through what she wanted to tell him crept in, and she wondered if confronting him was a wise idea after all.

Eventually she hit her chest with her fist, hoping it would slow her heart rate. “Too late,” she croaked to herself as the dim morning sunlight shone through her sheer curtains. “It already happened. What’s done is done.”

It was easier said than done, of course. No matter how she tried to shift her mind to other topics or even mentally prepare for her meeting with Claire, she kept returning to the emotions of last night.

I’ve lost him, she thought, burying her face in her pillow and yelling. Not that I had him to begin with. But the worst part is that I thought I was starting to have him.

She knew she wasn’t going to sleep anymore; there wasn’t time left before her alarm was due to go off in ten minutes. It didn’t help that her back hurt from lying in contorted positions, trying to get comfortable.

When she’d come in last night and gone straight to her bedroom, she couldn’t sleep. She’d tried stretching, yoga, deep-breathing exercises, scrolling through articles on every topic under the sun. Nothing helped, not even wiggling her toes or listening to the cats’ breathing. So she resorted to the good old-fashioned technique of turning the lights out and waiting for sleep to take her.

It never did.

Now, as she pulled the curtains aside, she squinted at the daylight and cursed. Her head felt like it was a raisin, and no amount of water she chugged helped it feel normal again. She dragged her feet to the bathroom and braced herself on the vanity, staring at her reflection.

“I look like shit.” Her eyes were swollen and her lips were so dry to the touch she swore they might fall off. Getting enough sleep every night was the most important thing to her, and it had been for years. In the last several months there had been only a couple of night she was restless, but eventually she was able to sink into dreams and remain there until her alarm went off. Last night, however, was the first night in probably a decade or so, she wagered, that her sleep schedule had been truly, hopelessly, disturbed.

“You can’t think about any of it,” Lillian commanded herself, still staring into the mirror. “Nothing matters right now except the appointment with Claire and the coffee with what’s-her-name later this afternoon.” She didn’t even feel bad for not calling to mind immediately the name of the woman she was meeting at the café later. She was a new client and they were meeting to discuss appointment times, décor style, living preferences... All those things I try to stay enamored of every day for the sake of clients who think my home looks like a Pinterest palace. Shifting her eyes down the hall to the living room, the first things she noticed were a ball of cat hair and a tangle of random computer cords she had yet to find a storage space for.

She couldn’t help but let out a laugh that sounded more like a cackle. I’ll just let all those people keep their visions of what they think this place looks like. For now, carry on the morning routine as usual.

That was all she knew to do. Once, she read somewhere that coffee and sugar were the worst things to consume after a night of fitful sleep, since they were dehydrating. She could deal with foregoing the sugar, but the coffee? No way. And besides, it had already started brewing. She heard the water start to gurgle and the pleasant dripping noise of it running into the carafe.

Yes, she nodded to herself while she splashed water and cleanser on her face, coffee will be my savior today. Already she was beginning to hear Claire’s voice in her head. That had to go. She started humming various songs to fill her house with some kind of noise, hoping that it would somehow take her mind off things.

Trudging back to her room she pulled on a pair of skinny jeans, but couldn’t bring herself to change from the warm sleep shirt draped over her frame. That would have to happen sometime between coffee and leaving the house. Her muscles weren’t fully awake or rested, or whatever they were, and she struggled with the button. Once she got it through, she felt her pants drop just a little, but enough that it was uncomfortable.

Stepping in front of the mirror, she saw that the jeans were indeed looser than they were last time. She scowled. Maybe I just need to wash them, she figured. Then they’ll fit again. I probably just haven’t washed them for a long time. Opening the closet, she grabbed a leather belt off a hook and looped it through her waistband.

Better. And that’ll look nice with my shirt later. She knew her tendency to be negative and pouty when she didn’t get a good night’s rest. Now, she reminded herself, was time to put all that reading about positive energy and mindfulness into action.

Easier said than done, she growled as she pulled her big sweater on and shivered. The sun hadn’t gained its warmth yet, so the house still held the cold of the night. She hopped into the kitchen, hoping to get her blood flowing and warm up.

As she reached for the coffee pot, she stopped abruptly and listened. The cats, who were chowing down on breakfast, raised their heads for a moment at a quiet banging noise.

She heard it again. Someone was definitely knocking on the door.

Glancing at the clock on the oven, she raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t even 8:00 yet. Who on earth...

The wooden door was closed in front of the screen door, so she couldn’t get any clues as to who the intruding visitor was. Coffee in hand, she unlocked the dead bolt. “I’m not interested in a morning paper or—”

She stopped when she opened the heavy door all the way.

There, on the other side of the screen door, was Cayden. And he was holding a plate of food in his hands.

Her jaw dropped. “What’s this?”

His lips pressed together when he smiled. “I made you breakfast.”

“I...” She flung open the screen door to let him in. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Isn’t that adorably cliché of you?”

“What’s the occasion?” she asked, ignoring his comment.

He drifted into the kitchen and set the plate down. “A couple of reasons.”

Lillian thought for a moment that he sounded a little embarrassed. “Reasons?”

“Last time you wouldn’t eat with me—”

“That makes me sound like an idiot.”

Cayden shook his head. “You’re not, but I’ll admit that it felt like you were one.”

“The other reason?”

“I’m sorry about last night.” His voice came out hard and fast, and his light blue eyes pierced her skull. She hadn’t seen him look this intensely at her before; there was no hint of a smile on his face. “I know I came across like an idiot.”

“I shouldn’t have come over,” she countered.

“No, I’m glad you did.”

She paused, waiting.

“You were hurt and you told me. I appreciate that.”

After a minute, she fidgeted. “The vibe in here just got pretty tense.”

“I’m not tense. Please don’t think that.” He put his hand next to the plate. “I made pancakes for you. I don’t know if you eat pancakes, but I figured since you have an appointment this morning you could use some extra nourishment.”

The food looked delicious. The first thing she noticed was a tiny daisy resting on top. Slices of banana peeked out from the golden pancakes, and two slices of bacon covered the bottom of the plate. He had just walked in but already the smell was filling the kitchen.

“Where’s yours?” she asked meekly.

He looked at her, surprised. “Mine?”

“Did you eat already?”

“No.”

She gestured at the kitchen table. “Bring it here.”

“I didn’t think you would want me here.”

Shit, am I really that much of an asshole? Putting her hands on his back, she pushed him toward the door. “Bring yours here.”

“You might need to warm yours up—”

“Shhh.” She put a finger to his lips. “I’m a grown woman. It’s okay. Now, hurry up.”

He half-smiled when she gave him a last little shove, but it was more of a confused expression than anything. She stood at the door and watched him leap over the hedge and run into his house in only a few steps.

It’s impossible for me to be mad at that guy, she realized, and gave herself a little smile.

In less than two minutes he was back at her place, inviting himself in this time. His plate had wisps of steam rising from it, and she made him sit down while she waited for hers to heat up.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked.

“No.” She froze. “I didn’t mean to say it so bluntly.”

“I can guess how well you slept by that one word.” His eyes glimmered curiously as he pulled a chair out for her.

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” she remarked as she sat down.

“Does it scare you?”

“A little.”

He didn’t look directly at her, but she could see the pleasure on his face. They took the first bite of breakfast at the same time and ate in silence for a couple of minutes.

“Did you not sleep well because of our argument?”

Lillian cleared her throat and took a gulp of coffee. “Talk about blunt.”

“I didn’t I slept well, either.”

Frowning, she set her mug down. “We’re really screwed up, huh?”

“You could say that.” Cayden took another bite and smiled. “It’s good, though. In some ways.”

“How so?”

“The fact that our disagreement affected us that much means we care about each other.” He said the words so matter-of-factly that her heart punched her ribcage.

“You could say that,” she agreed, her voice so soft she could barely hear it.

He didn’t look back at her, but focused on the last bites of his food. She gaped at his nearly empty plate. “How do you put down so much food like that?”

“What, like eating five pancakes in less than ten minutes is a big deal for you?” His eyes flickered to her plate; she was only halfway done with her two pancakes. “I’ve got some training to do with you, by the looks of it. At least you’ve eaten your calories.”

“I’m not hiring you,” she joked.

“What do I have to do to persuade you that I’m the best for you?” A sneaky smile waved over his mouth. “The best for your training, I mean.”

Everything in this moment seemed so normal that Lillian let herself laugh at yet another one of Cayden’s dual-meaning jokes. He chuckled with her, and they let their gazes settle on each other.

“What are we doing?” The words escaped her throat before she even knew they were there.

It caught him slightly off guard, but he seemed to know immediately what she was talking about. “What are we doing, Lil?”

“I feel like things are really unclear between us.” The fatigue was wearing on her mind, breaking that wall that kept her from saying what she wanted to say so often. “We’re in some weird kind of limbo right now, and we need to straighten things out. I think I need to know.”

“Sounds very academic.”

She looked down at her half-eaten pancakes. “I need clarity. I wish I didn’t, but I do. This ‘us’ thing is throwing me for a loop because we haven’t even acknowledged what’s going on.”

“Except for the fact that we slept together.” As he spoke she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, but he still had that pleased look on his face. “Which, by the way, was an excellent experience.”

A flashback hit her, and she felt his skin on hers. “Yeah,” she nodded, “it was.”

“So...” Cayden leaned back and motioned at the bottles on the counter. “When do you take those? Or are they just there for good measure?”

“Oh, damn!” She scooted back from the table quickly. “I’m supposed to take these with food in the morning.”

“Perfect timing then. You have food and it’s morning.”

“Very funny.” Opening the bottles to measure her pills, she stuck her tongue out at him and saw him smirking fiercely. “What’s that face for?”

“Just...” That sparkle in his eyes drove her crazy. “Before, you’ve been really anxious about anything medical-related in front of me. And right now you’re acting fine.”

Oh, he’s right. She added the last pill to the small pile on the counter. “That doesn’t mean I want to talk about it.”

“You want to talk about us, but you won’t talk about this?”

Lillian didn’t say anything as she sat back down and swallowed the pills one by one with her coffee.

“How about this.” He sounded like he was deliberating something. “How about I tell you one thing, and you tell me one thing. Something we wouldn’t normally talk about.”

“You just want me to talk about the meds.”

“Not the meds,” he replied simply. “I want you to talk about you. And how I can help you be better.”

“That’s two things.”

“Take two turns, then.”

“Cayden.” She put her elbows on the table and rubbed her forehead.

“Oh no, not the face rub.”

“Yes, the face rub. I’m still processing last night.”

His eyes rested on her plate. “I know. It sucked. But the fact that you were hurt at all tells me that you care about me.”

“All right, Dr. Phil. But what about you?”

He just looked at her.

“What are you feeling?” When she asked it, she saw the little gleam in his smile fade.

He sat back in the chair and laced his fingers together. “This will be my first thing.”

Uh-oh, did I just spark something bad?

“Bear with me while I try to speak in words that girls understand best.” Lillian knew he meant it to be silly, but his voice was serious. “Last night hurt me because it reminded me of a bad feeling.”

“I’m sorry, Cayden. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, just listen. I want to be honest with you. I was a freshman in high school when I found out my mom had been having an affair for a decade.”

Shit.

“My dad found out by accident. I don’t know exactly how. But I got home from school that day and I’ve never seen someone lose their soul and it show in their face.” He stared into the distance, lost in the memory. “I never saw him really, truly happy again. It helped when Mom moved out soon after. I pretty much lost touch with her.”

Lillian brought her feet up onto the chair and hugged her knees.

“So, when I got my first girlfriend towards the end of high school, I made sure to keep it honest and keep my distance from solo contact with other girls. Of course, I don’t look or act like the type that stays devoted to one person. But seeing my dad like that—and not just him, but also how my mom wilted like a flower—changed my perspective on relationships totally.”

“Cayden, I never meant for you to bring this up. I’m so—”

“That’s why I said I’m glad you did.” He took a sip of coffee from his mug. “I’ve never cheated on anyone I’ve dated. Like, been in a relationship with. But I’ve been cheated on. A girlfriend in college. I caught her.”

“Oh crap,” Lillian breathed.

“It’s whatever; I’m over it. When there’s no real label of what’s going on with someone, though, it’s that gray line. And sometimes there never gets to be a label. But when it comes up, that’s a different matter.”

“I’m...”

“Seriously, don’t say ‘sorry’ or anything like that.”

“You’re brave, Cayden.”

He looked up. “How so?”

“After seeing that happen with your parents, and after going through that yourself, it’s pretty amazing you even kept getting into relationships at all. Dared to take the risk, I mean.”

“You know...” Cayden flexed his muscles and put his hands behind his head, “underneath this tough, sexy exterior, I’m actually a sappy romantic.”

“Chick flicks and all?” Lillian tried to keep her eyes on his face, but couldn’t help looking at his biceps.

“Wine, cheese, the whole shebang. It makes me irresistible or something, I guess.” With a wink, he lowered his arms. “There’s my sad story. Your turn. Actually, no. Finish your breakfast first.”

“Is that a command?”

“Absolutely.”

Cayden, based on the pancakes, was a good cook. She didn’t mind the quiet between them while she finished at her own pace. The whole time he sat there, staring out the window until Gray Cat leapt onto his lap and made herself at home.

Lillian couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of her cat.

She swallowed the last bite. “My compliments to the chef.”

“Thank you, thank you. I would bow, but I’m currently unable to do so.” He rubbed his nose on Gray Cat’s face, and from the other side of the table she heard purring loud and clear.

“She likes you.”

“She’s not the only one.” He looked at Lillian. “That sounded better in my head.”

“I’m starting to gather that a lot of comments of yours sound better in your head.”

“Sounds about right. Listen, we don’t have all day. Chop, chop.”

“I don’t have an option of what to talk about?”

“Technically you do, but you know what I’m interested in.”

His face was so genuine she felt much more at ease. She started with the minor health problems a couple of years ago, running through the tests and doctor’s appointments and colonoscopies and scans until finally they arrived at the diagnosis of Crohn’s. Seeing the confusion on his face as he tried to piece it all together, she explained in clear terms what it meant, just like she told Amelia’s mother.

“That sounds...not fun. No offense.” He gave an embarrassed laugh.

“It’s not. But I don’t have it as bad as a lot of people.”

“Really?” His eyes flickered to the bottles.

“Well, I don’t have it easy either. I have to work extra hard to get enough nutrients and keep track of foods that trigger flare-ups.”

He thought about it for a few seconds. “Is it dangerous?”

“I do really good keeping it under control. There’s not a lot to worry about at this point, I think. Stress is a big trigger for me.”

“I’m guessing I haven’t exactly helped with that.”

She waved him off. “It’s fine. I let myself get stressed a lot.”

Gray Cat raised her head to sniff at the remaining syrup on Cayden’s plate. “Stop that. Syrup isn’t good for you, kitty,” he said, gently pushing the cat’s head aside with his big hand. “Okay, is it my turn?”

Glancing at the clock, she replied, “I believe we’ve got time for one more.”

“I like you and I want a label on this.”

She didn’t realize what he had said until afterwards. It all came out in one blurt and she felt her face become cherry-red just as quickly. “What?”

“You heard me.”

At a loss, she fumbled for a response. “But, Cayden, why me? I mean, you train and hang out with hot women. Strong ones. Ones who like to party and have fun and have a big social circle.” As she spoke, visions of all the women he probably came into contact with weekly flashed in her mind. “I’m the opposite of all that. Some days it hurts to walk to the mailbox, and I’m anything but strong and—”

“Are you trying to explain your every weakness to me?” he interrupted.

“No. I just don’t get it, to be honest. It’s so easy for someone like me to look at you and want you.” She was working herself up. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Lil, do you see yourself?” It was such a simple question, she couldn’t reply. “If you could try, for just a second, to see yourself through my eyes.”

There was a long silence. “It still doesn’t make sense to me.”

He leaned forward, looking her directly in the eyes. “Not trying to get you before someone else does would be a waste of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You charm the hell out of me, Lil, and I consider it some act of fate that you aren’t taken already.”

That feeling of detaching from her body came back, and all she could hear was blood pulsing in her ears.

“So,” he broke the silence, “will you give me—and us—a chance?”