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He patted the cushion beside him, and I kicked my shoes off under the table and joined him.
“You look good like this,” I said, curling one leg up beneath me as he strummed softly. “How come I never hear you play?”
“I don’t do it much anymore. My knuckles are usually busted up pretty good after a fight.”
I didn’t know the song he played, if it was even one at all or if he was just fooling around, but whatever it was, I liked it.
“What made you start?” I asked, and then grinned. “Did you wanna be a rock star?”
“Hell no.” He stopped playing abruptly, resting his hand across the strings. “I was just alone a lot. My room was a lot less quiet when I played.”
God, I hated that—hated that he ever felt alone or unwanted or unloved. It made me want to confront his parents myself, to ask why they couldn’t see the amazing man in front of me.
“What’s that?” Daire nodded to the box I held, and I swallowed.
“It’s for you.”
“Me?”
“Of course. I saw it and— Well, just open it.”
I held the box toward him, and he looked at it curiously before setting his guitar aside.
“You don’t have to buy me anything.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I teased, trying to keep things light because my heart was starting to beat a little faster and my palms were sweaty.
I casually rubbed them over my pants as Daire lifted the top off the box. He went still as he stared at its contents, and I cleared my throat when he didn’t say anything.
“It’s a St. Michael pendant,” I said. “He’s a defender and protector.”
“I know who he is,” Daire said quietly, still not moving.
I bit down on my lip. “It’s just… St. Jude doesn’t fit you. You’re not a hopelessorlost cause.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” I reached over and pulled out the silver oval charm. “You’ve been looking after me from the moment we met.”
“No, I?—”
“Yeah, you have. And the thing is, you don’t even realize you’re doing it. It’s like second nature to you, a natural instinct to protect those you are care about, and call me crazy, but I think you might care about me.”
Daire’s lips quirked. “You think so, huh?”
“Well, you did practicallybegto be my boyfriend.”
Daire reached for the pendant, smoothing his thumb over the saintly figure engraved on the metal. “Well over the last couple of weeks you’ve shown me what it feels like to have someone give a shit about me. To have someonewantto be with me the way I am.”
I held my breath, wondering if maybe I’d pushed too hard too fast.
“I want to deserve you.” He swallowed, turning the charm over between his fingers. “I want to be what you need, but this…? I don’t know if I’m this.”
I shifted into his side. “You’re right. You’re so muchmorethan this. You’re a protector, a friend, a lover, and a badass fighter. You’re my boyfriend, and I love who you are.”
“Which makes you either a saint or a fucking masochist. But either way, I’m not about to complain. For some insane reason you want to be with me, and I want to deserve that. I want to deserve your trust and those feelings. But I can’t change who I am, and all I can think is I’ll eventually fuck this up.”
“Hmm.” I shifted up to my knees and swung one of my legs over the top of his, settling down on his lap. “What if I tell you I won’tletyou fuck it up?”
