Chapter Eleven
Maggie had enjoyed an afternoon at the Dublin Zoo, a way to change things up. It was the first time the sun had come out all week, since she’d returned to Dublin after the Cliffs of Moher. She wanted—needed—to be outside in the sunshine. The zoo had been fairly crowded for a Thursday, it was a lovely place, and a nice reprieve from dark, old stone buildings filled with ghosts of the long gone. It was filled with life.
She got back to her flat just after four and decided on taking a quick shower before heading down to the pub, in case Colin was there tonight. In case he wanted to go home with her. She hoped he did. Thinking back on the week, the loopy, besotted smile that usually accompanied thoughts of him bloomed on her face.
Monday, she’d had dinner with Ciara. Tuesday, she’d found him at the pub, scribbling away in his notebook. They’d had a pint and she’d invited him back to her flat. The eager look in his eyes combined with the low murmur of his acceptance had gotten her nerves tingling and her blood racing in an instant. God help her, he turned her on in every way. They’d spent a fabulously steamy night together, only he hadn’t slept over that time because of an early meeting at work the next morning. Wednesday night was his weekly dinner with his kids, so she’d gone to another pub in another neighborhood that she’d heard was fun and wanted to check out.
She’d stayed at the bar and befriended one of the bartenders immediately, as was her habit for her safety. And after half an hour, been hit on by an attractive guy in his late twenties. Pete had been really nice, but she had no interest and let him down gently. All she wanted was more sexy nights with a quiet, slightly older true gentleman. Who she could talk to about anything and everything, and who listened intently. Whose eyes were a deep, brilliant blue and whose smile was rare but blinding. Who was aloof and wound up tight, but in private, let loose with her. Watching that transition in her bedroom had been astounding, and she was enjoying every bit of it.
She deep conditioned her hair and shaved her legs, hoping for another go with Colin tonight. He was a little slice of heaven, and she was… she wasn’t sure what she was. Smitten? Yeah, she could own that. She liked him. That didn’t need analyzing.
Wrapping her hair in a towel turban style, she walked back into her bedroom just as her phone rang. Glancing at the screen, her brows lifted in surprise, then she winced. She hadn’t returned a call in a while. “Mom?”
“Hi, honey! Oh, I’m so glad I got you. This voice mail tag was getting tiresome.”
Maggie winced harder. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“I know, I know. Believe me, by now I know the drill,” Susie Flynn said dryly. “So how are you enjoying Ireland this time around? Tell me everything!”
Maggie sank down onto her bed and started talking. Susie had a million questions, and Maggie answered them. She knew she didn’t need to send pictures because her mom followed her blog on her website religiously. They talked for about twenty minutes before her mom asked, “So when are you leaving Dublin, and where are you going from there? Anything lined up yet? What’s the plan?”
“Well,” Maggie said, “I want to be in D.C. by November first. Figure I’ll stay there for a few weeks, catch up with some friends there, maybe drive around Virginia… and be in New York for all of December. I want to be there for Christmastime, it’s just the best and I haven’t done that in a long time.”
“Aha. I see. Well…” Her mom hesitated, and suddenly knowing what was coming, Maggie’s stomach tensed. Sure enough, Susie said, “I was wondering if you’d come here for one of the holidays. If you’re planning on being in New York for Christmas, and you’ll be within driving distance, would you consider coming home for Thanksgiving maybe? We haven’t seen you in so long… your father would be so happy and all your sisters would be thrilled. You haven’t even met your niece yet!”
Maggie sighed. The only married sister, Hailey had made their parents into grandparents last winter. “I know.”
“I just miss you, honey.” Her mom’s voice got quiet. “I really miss you. We all do. It’s been a long while now. Won’t you think about it? Just come for a few days.”
“You don’t have to beg,” Maggie said, feeling awful. “I’ll come for Thanksgiving. A few days. All right?”
“Oh, yes!” The jubilation in Susie’s voice made Maggie feel even worse. “Oh, that’s wonderful! I can’t wait to tell everyone.”
“I’ll, uh…” Maggie dragged the towel off her hair, which was barely damp at this point. “I’ll come on Tuesday and stay ’til Saturday. If that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay! That’ll be great!”
Maggie ran her fingers through her hair, trying to dislodge the tangles. “Okay, Mom. I’ll be there. I have to go now, though. My hair is almost dry and if I don’t do something with it, it’ll be a hot mess.”
“Okay, you go. I’m just glad we got to catch up,” Susie said. “Talk to you in a few weeks, I guess. You could call home once in a while, you know. Just a reminder.”
“I text you,” Maggie said.
“Not enough.”
“Well, I know you read the blog, so you know where I am and what I’m doing.”
“Yes, Miss Independent, but you could call too. It’s not expensive like it used to be when I was younger.”
Maggie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Okay, Mom. Say hi to Dad for me.”
“I sure will. You have fun, and stay safe always.”
“I’m as careful as I can be, Mom. Don’t worry.”
“Can’t help but worry. By the way, how’s your leg holding up?”
“Fine, Mom.” The accident had broken her left leg in three places, and she still felt twinges and aches—especially on rainy days—that she willfully ignored. Her limp was barely noticeable to the unwatchful eye. “I’m okay, promise.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
When she ended the call, she rose from the bed with a sigh. She’d committed to Thanksgiving in Ohio with her family. Maybe this visit would be bearable.
She squirted some shine-and-no-frizz serum into her hands and ran them through her long locks… then scowled at herself in the mirror. She was being negative, and unfair. She chastised herself silently. She wasn’t always fair to them, and she knew it. But her need for independence, her residual resentments from childhood, and her pain had overshadowed things when it came to them. She wasn’t sure how else to explain her tangled feelings.
No, they hadn’t made her feel understood, appreciated, or included as a kid, but they’d made up for it when it counted most.
After the accident had almost killed her and left her a young widow, she’d been in the hospital in Savannah for over two months. When ready, she was released and moved to a rehab center to get her strength back. Her parents had arranged for her to be sent back to Ohio, in her hometown, so they could help her get on her feet again, both figuratively and literally.
Being in a bed for that long had made her muscles atrophy. Between being weakened from what her body had endured, and the unspeakable anguish of losing Zack, Maggie was drowning in pain of every kind. She was enraged at the world. She lashed out at people. Therapists, both for physical and mental, helped her eventually get a hold on that. But her mother had come to the rehab facility every day. Every single day. Maggie was there for almost three months before being released.
Having no home to go to, she went to her childhood home to recoup some more until she decided what she’d do next. To be fair, her mother had insisted on that, and been amazing. Her father had been supportive but quiet, not knowing what to say or how to handle his daughter’s massive loss and palpable grief. Hailey had tried to be nicer, bringing her sweets or whatever food Maggie asked for. Stacey and Britney had been like Dad, awkward but genuinely well-meaning.
They’d all tried. Maggie was the one who kept everyone at arm’s length. She was hurting too much. She just wanted to be alone with her grief. Her parents cared for her until… until she was healthy again, and felt smothered, and had to get away from everything and everyone she’d known so she could put her past behind her and get back out to see the world. To travel and have adventures.
That’s what Zack would have wanted, she told everyone. I’m going to honor Zack’s memory by going out and finishing what we started.
Her parents had never understood her, but they understood her need for freedom. She’d only been back to Ohio once in the five years since the accident. It had made her anxious, all that attention. Like she was a star, which she wasn’t, or like something of a freak, which she wasn’t. They’d never really understood her.
Only with Zack had she finally felt understood. Seen and appreciated for who she truly was. He’d been her home.
Now, Maggie sat naked on her bed and looked over the scars on her body. On her leg, under her ribs, up on her left shoulder…
She didn’t like to talk about the accident, and Colin hadn’t asked again since Moher. She was grateful for that. He had enough of his own demons to wrestle with that he knew not to bring up hers. He wasn’t pushy, or demanding, or anything but kind. And amused; she made him smile and she made him laugh. The taciturn man she’d initially met faded a little more each day they spent time together. His sweetness shone through. He trusted her enough to let that happen, and she trusted him equally.
She realized that she trusted him and felt so safe with him because she felt, inexplicably, understood by him. She knew he was kind of fascinated by her, yes… but she also knew that he got her. Sensed things. Listened when she talked, really listened.
A crazy thought popped into her head, an unbidden whisper: Zack would like him. He’d approve.
A chill ran over her skin.
Her eyes slipped closed. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to love another man like she had Zack. To pretend otherwise wasn’t fair to any man… no matter how lonely she’d been starting to feel when she arrived in Dublin. No matter how touched she’d been by Colin McKinnon, both inside and out.
Again her eyes ran along her scars. Constant physical reminders of what she’d been through. Some days, they felt like badges of honor of how what she’d survived, how far she’d come since then, and she was proud of them. Some days, they were just searing reminders of everything she’d lost, and looking at them brought her to tears.
Losing Zack had destroyed her. She’d rebuilt her life, but she never wanted to hurt like that again. A secret part of her sometimes wondered what it would be like to find love again… she was only thirty, with hopefully a long life ahead of her… but then the panic would set in, snapping her up in its steely jaws. Love equaled certain loss. She couldn’t bear to lose someone again. Or, even more devastating, herself. She’d come close to that once. She couldn’t feel that lost, that vulnerable, ever again.
Gotta just keep moving…
Her phone dinged with a text, jolting her from her thoughts. Colin. Were his ears burning? He’d written: Will be at the pub by 7. Any chance you’re coming round tonight?
Maggie willfully shook off her melancholy. Live in the now. Colin is here, now. Enjoy him while you’re here.
She texted back, You bet. Be there at 7. Any chance you’d come home with me tonight?
You bet, Colin answered. Was hoping you’d ask.
*
August turned into September, and Colin realized that somehow, he and Maggie had fallen into an affair. They texted every day, he’d gone on two more weekend trips with her, and he went home with her almost every night except Wednesdays. He slept over more often than he didn’t. He loved sleeping beside her. The comfort of that alone was soul-mending, much less the awesome rush of waking up with her in his arms and making love to her to start the morning. Then he’d go to the gym, or to work, and smile like a bloody loon for the rest of the day.
He was changing. Because he was finally, slowly but surely, healing. He recognized it, but didn’t want to jinx it by speaking of it out loud, so he didn’t. Not to her, or to anyone. Barely to himself, truth be told. But it felt damn good. He was the closest thing to happy that he’d ever been. He had a better outlook, wasn’t growling at people, wasn’t numb. He felt alive again.
He hadn’t told anyone he was seeing her. Certainly not his kids yet. It felt private, and he didn’t want to share it. But he loved every bit of it. Maggie had brought color, sound, and light back into his life.
From the cute or sassy texts that made him smile at work; to the places she brought him to once or twice a week, a fun relearning of his own country; to the hot, powerful nights he spent in her bed… Good Lord, the sex was incredible. He’d never had sex in his life like he did with this enchanting, alluring, passionate woman.
And he knew it wouldn’t last. So he drank in every drop.
After making love to Maggie late on a Thursday night, his mind went in its usual circles as his hands skimmed over her body beside him. There were things he wanted to ask, say, tell her… but he wouldn’t, of course. It wasn’t his way. He consumed her with touches, wondering if she ever felt the energy of his restrained words in them. Touching her whenever she was near had become as necessary as breathing.
“You’re so quiet.” Maggie’s murmur broke into his thoughts. “You okay?”
“Very much so.” His hand ran down her side. Naked in bed together, in the soft darkness of her bedroom, he couldn’t have been more content. “Just thinkin’.”
“You always are. Sometimes I can actually feel your mind working.”
He only smiled softly.
She smiled back. “What are you thinking about? Want to share?”
“You,” he admitted.
“Oh really? What about me?”
“The general assessment? You’re lovely.”
She peered at him harder, as if she could will him to say more. But all she said was, “So are you, Colin. Truly.”
He grinned. His fingers traced along the thin, raised line of scar tissue along her ribs, almost three inches long. “May I ask…?”
“Ask anything.”
“This scar. What happened here?”
“From the accident, of course.” Her voice was calm, matter-of-fact. “My lung collapsed and my spleen ruptured. They needed to get to both.”
His lips pursed and he nodded slowly, imagining horrors.
She lifted her hand to stroke his cheek. “You can always ask. Whatever you want. I reserve the right not to answer, but it’s unlikely. I’m pretty open about the accident and its aftermath, as you know. I mean, we know I had a happy ending. I’m here, right?”
“And I’m very glad that you are.”
“Thanks. Me too.”
He swallowed the rest. Yes, he was curious about the accident. That detrimental experience had changed and shaped her life. But the last time he’d delved into it, she’d been tortured with nightmares that had her literally screaming and thrashing in her sleep. He didn’t want that for her.
But she continued, her voice lowered to barely above a whisper. “Really, I should have died too.” Her fingers ran through his light chest hair, a slow back and forth. “When I think back, knowing what kind of shape I was in when they got me to the hospital, I don’t know how I didn’t.”
“It wasn’t your time,” he whispered solemnly.
“I guess not.” She dropped a kiss on his shoulder.
He pulled her closer, caressing her arm, his fingers always finding their way back to her hair. They sifted through the silken strands as they held each other. “How long did it take you to recover? Physically, I mean?”
“What, the healing and then rehab? About six months.”
He whistled low, chest tightening at the thought of what that must have entailed.
“I’m lucky to be alive,” she said firmly. “I don’t take that for granted. I wake up grateful every day. And then try to make the most of every day.”
“And never look back.”
“I can’t. Besides, there’s no point. All we have is the present moment.”
He nodded slowly as he took that in, mind working. After a few minutes, he said as lightly as possible, “No long term plans for the future, then?”
“Not really.” She edged back enough to look into his eyes. “Does that bother you, or are you just curious?”
“The latter.”
“Ah. Well… I know too well that there are no guarantees in life. So I plan for the next few weeks, maybe a few months. But no, I don’t plan long term, or think of anything far ahead.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I know how that must sound to someone like you. Yes, it’s how I think because of the accident. I won’t deny it.”
A nerve jangled. “Someone like me?”
“Yes. Someone older, settled, and with deep roots. The opposite of me.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. She wasn’t wrong, but it just… it sat wrong.
“You don’t have to agree.”
“It’s not for me to agree or disagree, Maggie. It’s your life.”
“That’s true. But you should see the frown on your face. The lines are back.” She touched the spot between his brows. He knew they were knitted, he felt the tension.
He tried to relax his face as he said, “I’m not judging you.”
“I know you’re not. You’re…” Her fingers feathered along the lines likely bracketing his mouth. “…concerned by what you’re hearing. Thinking about it. Hard.”
He blinked, surprised at her insight. “Yes. You know me that well now, do ya?”
“Apparently I might.” She smiled, a gentle tug of her lips that emanated light.
“Apparently.”
She gave him a sweet, lingering kiss, then lay down again. He tugged her closer so he could wrap his arms around her. Feeling her breath feather against his chest soothed him. Being with her, knowing her story, made him acutely aware of how precious life was. And how precious she was.
Not for the first time, he allowed himself to wonder what kind of future they could possibly have together, if that was even a possibility. He knew it wasn’t, but he sometimes permitted himself little kernels of fantasy in the hidden safety of his head.
He daydreamed about what it’d be like to come home to her after a day at work. Having dinner with her as she regaled him with tales of whatever she’d done that day…
No, that wouldn’t do. Her life was traveling. She wouldn’t ever be one to come home to, as wonderful as he could wish it to be. And it would be wonderful. Because he didn’t just crave her body, he enjoyed their friendship. He liked listening to her, watching her talk with her animated gestures. He liked the way she instinctively knew how to draw him out of his shell and how to handle him. She was very intuitive, and he admired that. Maggie was great with people in general, he’d seen plenty of evidence of that. She was lovely…
But she was younger. A decade separated them. Surely there were things she wanted one day that he could no longer give her. That sure didn’t fit in with his daydreams about being with her.
“You’re lost in your head again,” she said playfully. “Come out and be with me.”
Damn, she knew him well already. He tipped up her face to kiss her mouth, lingering on her sweet lips. “Can I ask ya something that’s none of my business,” he said, “but I’m just bloody curious?”
She only grinned. “Always.”
He hesitated, but jumped. “Do you want children someday?”
She blinked. Clearly, that wasn’t what she’d expected him to ask. “I never say never,” she finally said, “but on the whole, no, I don’t think so. Why?”
“I just…” He shrugged again. “You’re young, Maggie. I just wondered if you thought about it. I know you’re traveling now, but did you want that for your future.”
“I told you,” she said, her voice dropping, growing sober. “I don’t think about the future. Just the present.”
He blinked at her tone. There was firmness there… and a subtle push back. Both against his words, and against the future. Against hope, maybe. Against him, surely.
It hit him with a jolt: maybe she didn’t want to think of a future without her husband, so she simply refused to.
Colin thought of her flat. How there weren’t pictures, or lots of her things strewn about. Nothing of her. Everything was temporary. She took that idea to a whole new level, didn’t she? Yes, she had ultimate freedom, but she was also alone. Just as alone as he’d been, but a million times more so. And her being alone, while initially wasn’t her choice, was now. Suddenly, he was sad for her.
“You’re frowning again,” she said.
He swallowed and leaned in to kiss her temple. “Sorry.”
“You’re surprised.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re surprised to hear a woman say she may not want children.”
“After all you’ve been through, not really. I think…” Jesus, shut up, McKinnon. It doesn’t matter what you think. “Scratch that. Forget it.”
“No, tell me. Now I’m the one who’s curious.”
He closed his eyes, nuzzled the soft skin at her hairline. Sensing this conversation could angle into bad territory, he tried to choose his words with care. “I… I think you’re too young to make that strong a decision yet, is all. And, again, it’s not my business.”
She pushed back and leaned up on one elbow to face him. “First of all, I love my freedom too much to give it up. That’s selfish, but it’s true. Second, I lost someone I loved with every fiber of my being. And with a child, it would be even worse. Much, much worse. I can’t bear the idea of that kind of…” She paused, brows furrowed, searching for the right words. “The thought of losing someone who means as much to me as a child would? I’m not willing to risk that.” She blew out a long breath. “Besides, I’ve seen enough of the world to know it’s a chaotic, sometimes scary place. Feels like it’s getting worse with every month. Bringing a kid into the mix? No, I don’t really want children. And I’m fine with that.”
“I understand those fears,” he murmured. “And I’m not dismissing your thoughts or your position. But… having children can be an affirmation of life and hope. The exact opposite of what you said.”
Her eyes flashed.
“And, well, you are young yet, Maggie. So—”
“You know, you keep saying how young I am.” She cocked her head to the side and pinned him with a look. “That bothers you, doesn’t it? Our age difference.”
“Not at all. I’m just aware we’re at very different places in our lives.”
“Yes, in some ways. But it’s not, like, a gaping divide that can’t be crossed.” She shook her head as her mouth twisted ruefully. “Sometimes you act like you’re a hundred years old.”
He huffed out a coarse laugh. “Sometimes I feel like it, truth be told.”
“That’s criminal. You’re not done, dammit.” Her eyes narrowed, spearing him with a searching look that sent ripples through him. “When don’t you feel old and weary? When do you feel as young and vital as you still actually are? Do you ever?” she demanded. “I want to know, so I can help you get to that place more often.”
The ripples of energy in his chest turned into edgy waves that flowed through him. But he met her steely stare and murmured, “Whenever I’m with you, I don’t feel old. I don’t feel weary, or done. I feel alive.”
Their eyes locked. The charged moment crackled with electricity. He had to look away. He let his eyes fall to where his fingertips trailed along her arm.
“Sometimes I do with my kids, as well,” he continued. “Sometimes, during a good run on the treadmill at the gym. Sometimes when I’m outside on a sunny, rare good weather day. But… most of all, when I’m with you. Every time.”
“That’s not often enough.” Her coffee-colored eyes had gone wide with concern. “What will you do when I leave?”
The pang that hit his heart was brutal. He tried to shrug. “I’ll miss you,” he admitted. “And go back to my life.”
“Not good enough.” She shook her head hard, and he saw she was getting fired up. “Life is what you make it,” she insisted. “There’s a whole world out there. You want to see it. Do that, Colin. For yourself.”
“Maggie.” He smiled ruefully, lifting his hand to tenderly sweep her hair back from her face. He tucked some of the silky gold strands behind her ear. “If there’s anything defining about me, and my life, it’s that I’ve never done anything for myself.”
“That’s heartbreaking,” she spat. “And it doesn’t have to be that way. Stop doing that. And while you’re at it, stop the pity party.”
Blood rushed through him, a spark of ire. “Pardon?”
“Yes, you gave things up when you were younger. But as a result, you do have good things in your life. You keep telling me what a gift kids are. You have that.”
“I know that,” he said, muscles tensing in his neck and shoulders. “I’m grateful for them every day.”
“I know you are, but you still punish yourself for how your life went in the first place. But you’re free now. You can do things for yourself, at last.”
He sat up too. This turn in the conversation wasn’t something he could lie down through. “I have responsibilities,” he said, “that say otherwise.”
“Yes, your kids, of course. But they’re closer to being grown than you care to admit. Your parenting job, on a day-to-day basis, is almost done. And there’s your job, which is important, but hey, you hate it.” Spots of color bloomed on her cheeks. Yup, she was fired up, all right. “And you have done things for yourself. When you chose to.”
“Really?” he countered, getting a bit fired up himself. “Name one.”
“You asked for a divorce,” Maggie shot back. “In Ireland. Where it’s a long and drawn out, seemingly impossible thing. But you did that. That wasn’t just for her, that was for you too. And you were right to do it. So stop punishing yourself for the fact that your marriage didn’t work.”
“I’m not anymore.”
“You are. You still do. All the time.”
He felt his muscles tense as she talked, as she stared him down. His blood pulsated in his limbs and his jaw drew tight.
“And this… whatever you want to call it,” she said, gesturing between the two of them. “This fling? Affair? The sexy togetherness we’ve been having these past three weeks? That’s something for yourself. It’s not just for me.” She gripped his shoulder. “And it’s good for you. You’ve been enjoying us. That doesn’t make you selfish, you know. To want something for yourself. That makes you human. And long overdue.”
Something heavy and dark swirled in his chest. He clamped his mouth shut.
“And there you are, shutting down in front of my eyes.” She sighed. “I don’t want you to go back to being isolated, gruff, wounded Colin when I leave. He left the building a few weeks ago, and I hope he never comes back.”
He stared at her as his heart thumped.
She touched his cheek and said, “I love seeing the light in your eyes lately. I love that I’ve watched you let your walls down a little. I love that I’ve helped do that for you. But when I leave, you need to keep building on that. On your own, for yourself. Don’t you get it?”
Words crashed around in his head. Emotions wreaked the same havoc in his chest. He just stared back at her.
“Say something,” she commanded.
“Nothing to say to all that,” he grumbled.
“The hell there isn’t!” She gripped his arm. “Stop shutting yourself down. Stop punishing yourself for past choices. The past is the past, leave it there.”
“I have been,” he bit out. Tension pulsed through him, building higher and hotter in his blood.
“Not strongly enough.” Her hand moved to his chest. He knew she must feel his heart pounding. “And honey, no matter what, don’t lie to yourself. You can do things for yourself. If you can slip away for weekend trips with me, you can go on trips of your own for a few days. You can do lots of things now. You just keep choosing not to. That’s a choice. Your choice.”
His heart was hammering now, and his mouth had gone dry. He swallowed hard. “All I did,” he murmured dangerously, “was ask if you wanted kids. I didn’t ask to be fucking psychoanalyzed in return.”
“I know. But too bad. The conversation took a turn and I’m calling you out.”
“Because I asked if you had plans for the future. I hit a nerve, so you want to hit one of mine. It’s a deflection tactic.” He recognized that easily. Trish was a master of the deflection tactic. He’d grown to despise that about her. A muscle jumped in his clenched jaw as he said from between his teeth, “If you’re trying to distract me by flinging things back at me and rattling my cage, it’s working. And I don’t appreciate it.”
She stilled, eyes widening. “That’s not what I was doing.”
“Sure about that?” He gazed back at her, unflinching, even as his blood sizzled through his veins. “Maggie, you don’t know me.”
“Yes, I do.” She speared him with a fiery look. Everything in her posture was defiant. “You’ve told me plenty, I’ve spent time with you, and I’ve seen you. Seen you. The real you, that you keep under guard. The real you who writes stories by longhand in a crowded pub so he’ll feel less alone. The real you who walked along the Cliffs with me, constantly looking to make sure my footing was secure and I was safe. The real you who held me when I couldn’t stop shaking from a nightmare. The real you who warmed up to me in spite of your best efforts not to.” She pointed a finger at him. “I do know enough of you, Colin. Which is why you resent what I said.”
His jaw tensed, and where his blood beat at his temples, the beginnings of a headache simmered. “You’re an expert on me after six weeks, eh?”
“Expert? God, no,” she said with a little snort. “Your layers have layers, and I don’t know if you’ll ever let anyone see them all. But I do know enough. Enough to know you’re pretty pissed off because I just spoke a few uncomfortable truths.” She held his gaze. “I see you.”
His pulse skyrocketed as something hot and fierce shot through his veins. He didn’t know why he was angry, only knew that yes, he sure as bloody hell was. He licked his dry lips and stared back at her. “Know what I see?” He drew a hard breath before diving off the edge. “You can attack me all you want, but I’m not the only one in this room who hides from things. I’m just the only one who admits it. And if I’m lying to myself about my life, and about myself? I’m not the only one here doing it. I’m just the only one here who owns it.”