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Well fuck. He had no excuses.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Do you…want me to leave?” It killed him to ask it. The last thing he wanted to do was drive away.
“No. I want you to come in and eat with me. I made enchiladas.”
His stomach took note of her words with a growl. “Why would you…?”Cripes.He was so nervous with self-doubt he couldn’t get a full sentence out of his mouth.
“Because you owe me an explanation.” She filled in the blank for him. “We had two, very nice evenings together, then you went radio-silent. I didn’t appreciate that, Doug. But now you’re sitting here. I want to know why. About both things.”
Shit.He should have thought this out. Of course, she’d want explanations. But he wasn’t ready to give her his sick, twisted back-story. He probably never would be.
“There are things I don’t talk about,” he began.
Pixie snorted. “Seriously? You know my entire history, Doug. Which means you know it took a lot for me to agree to go out with you and open up. I think after giving me false hope that I might be able to move on and be normal again, you owe me.”
“That’s just the thing, Pixie,” Doug’s voice rumbled deep in his chest. “Youmight be able to find a way to integrate your past into your present, but I can’tevermove on and be normal.”
What else could he tell her? How much could he reveal? His baggage was way more complicated than hers. Not that he was taking away from the gravity of her trauma. The event that had changed her life had been very real, but…it had lasted only one night. His fucked-up shit had devoured four years of his life, and really screwed with his head.
Pixie looked exasperated, and would, no doubt, have planted both hands on her hips right then, if she had the ability. She settled for a glare. “Listen. I don’t need your whole story. Just some reassurance it wasn’t me and my…” Now it was her turn to flounder as she waved her right hand toward her motionless left arm.
“Oh, my God, Pixie. No,” he quickly countered, horror filling him that she thought even for one minute he’d left her becauseof her arm. “I think you’re perfect. More than perfect,” he stumbled. “Me leaving was because of…me.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s a bullshit answer. The old, ‘it isn’t you, it’s me’ excuse. Fine,” she huffed. “If you want to play it like that, then why are you here?”
“Because I…” Could he do this? Were the words going to come out of his mouth? “Because I care about you, and I want you to feel safe.”
Pixie blinked, then shook her head. But this time a softer expression settled over her face. “That’s…commendable, but… I still don’t understand, Doug. I really don’t.” She squared her shoulders. “The offer of supper, however, is still on the table, and I promise I won’t pry any more if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Doug felt her words like a blow to his chest. She’d shared so much with him, and still he was going to keep his shit from her? He knew it wasn’t fair. And soon, of course, he’d probably have to reveal to her sister at least a truncated version of his history. Would Talia then tell Pixie? Would it be better if Doug just ripped of the bandage and filled Pix in, first?
“I tell you what. I’ll…give you a small hint at some of my troubles.” He made the decision and offered quickly before he could back out. “Then maybe you’ll understand things a little better.”
Yeah.There were bits and pieces he could tell Pixie, and there were other things he’d reveal to Talia. They’d eventually compare notes, patching together his whole story…which he’d have to be okay with. There was no point in hiding things from Pixie if it was going to lead to her own self-doubt. Nor should he keep it from his LT if she was supposed to trust him on important ops in the future.
Still, it was tough imagining his shit being out there for them to see. There were only a handful of people who knew about his past; his uncle, his aunt, his cousin, his best friend Cisco, andthen just a few months ago he’d filled in the SWAT team’s Use of Force counselor, Everlee. And even they didn’t know the horrific details. Only Will, his therapist and good friend knew his entire story. He’d never had to spill to a potential…No.That wasn’t right. Pixie wasn’t a potential anything to him. Why did his brain refuse to get the memo?
“I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me,” Pixie said solemnly, bringing him back to his present situation, then backing up to let him exit his truck.
And didn’t Doug just hate the double-entendre she’d inadvertently dropped. Because hecouldn’tgive anything of himself, physically. There’d be no intimacies shared with anyone for him, not even Pixie. Not now and not in the future. Partial information sharing was as far as he was willing to go.
Doug got out of the truck, and barely kept himself from leaning forward to bury his nose in Pixie’s hair. He knew from their few times together that she always smelled a little like elementary school; cafeteria food, playdoh, pencil erasers… He liked it. It was comforting and reminded him of a time his life had been simple.
But even though he didn’t get his face into her actual locks, the scents wafting off her right now were not school related. They were redolent of Mexican cuisine, and his stomach complained loudly again.
Pixie actually chuckled. “What were you going to eat if I hadn’t come out and offered you food?” she asked.
He fell into step beside her as they walked across the street to Talia’s house. “I, uh, have a slice of old pizza in a bag, and some power bars.”
Pixie turned and raised a brow without missing a step. “Old pizza? How old?”
Doug shrugged, happy to be talking about something that wasn’t personal. “Two, maybe three days. Rubbery,” he admitted, “but not moldy.”
“That’s gross,” she told him. “You’ll toss that as soon as you get home.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He loved it when she used her slightly scolding, schoolmarm voice. “But just so you know, it’s not the worst thing in my fridge.”
“Don’t tell me,” Pixie began bantering. And that was something he really liked about her. She might have a head full of questions, but she was patient, and not unwilling to tease. “Several containers of week-old Chinese, a suspicious package of deli ham you haven’t gotten around to throwing out, and…a bunch of condiments.”
