“Will you please talk to me?” I murmured.
It took him a minute. He just kept staring. But then he blew out a breath and whispered, “Yeah, okay.”
Thank fuck.
“Here? Now?”
Oak glanced around, but there was no one to overhear. At least at the moment. But he shook his head. “Now is fine, but not here.”
I nodded, not willing to look away in case he disappeared. “My house or your cabin?”
He chewed his lips as he thought about it. “The house.”
“Let’s go.” I tugged him but I only got two steps before I realized he hadn’t budged. I glanced back and raised an eyebrow.
“I’m right behind you.” He gently pulled his arm away, and I let him. His smile was shaky when he added, “I promise.”
I had no choice but to take him at his word. Hell if I knew what I was going to say to him, but at least he was willing to talk.I strode with purpose out the door, not looking back in case he wasn’t following after, and headed straight for my house. Charlie might have called out to me, but I didn’t really register it. I was on a mission.
I shrugged out of my coat as soon as I got home and didn’t shut the front door. Freezing wind blew in, but I didn’t care. I was being optimistic that Oak was right behind me, and I stared through the screen door, almost holding my breath. Just a minute later, I saw him and suddenly I could breathe. When he realized I was waiting, he picked up the pace, and I opened the door the instant his feet touched the porch.
“You’ll let in all the cold air.”
“Yeah, I don’t care.” I closed the door and turned, impatiently waiting for him to get his parka off. And then I stepped in close, holding open my arms, and he practically fell into them. I wrapped him up and squeezed him tightly.
Both of us sighed.
We stood there in the entryway for a long few minutes, just holding onto each other and breathing. It felt so good to hold him again. Part of my brain was trying to make it make sense. We’d barely started, the feelings shouldn’t be this intense. But the rest of me just…absorbed it. Went with it. There was no denying the connection between us even though I’d tried. God knows, I’d tried.
I kissed the top of his head. “You all right?”
“Meh.” Oak tried to burrow closer.
“Yeah, I hear that.” I chuckled and gave him an extra squeeze before I started to pull away. “Come sit.”
We walked into the living room and I gestured to the couch while I grabbed an extra throw out of the ottoman that doubled as storage space. I would have built a fire in that lovely old fireplace, but it was the middle of the day and we’d both haveto go back to work long before it died out. There was no way I’d leave a fire burning unattended.
I handed him the throw, and he draped it over his lap. And then I just stood there like an awkward idiot.
“I’m at a loss here, Oak,” I admitted softly. “I want to sit next you, cuddle the shit out of you, but there’s a lot we need to talk about and I’m not sure if you’re comfortable with—”
“Yeah, sit here.” He patted the cushion right next to him.
Well okay then. I sat and he flipped half of the blanket onto me. When I lifted an arm, he snuggled in. This was how it was supposed to be. Even though I would have liked to see his face as we had this discussion, it might be easier for both of us to at least start this way.
I racked my brain, trying to figure out a good starting point. How many times had I had imaginary conversations with him in my head? Too many to count. But all of that flew out the window now that I had him with me. And some of that hurt resurfaced, which is probably why I just dove in.
“It hurt me when you walked out. I felt like you weren’t really listening to me and jumping to conclusions. I wished you would have stayed and talked to me.”
I heard a distinct sniffle, and when he spoke his voice sounded a little watery. “Nice work with the ‘I’ statements there.”
He was trying to be funny but I couldn’t laugh. I just hugged him a little tighter. “Cait and I tried therapy to save our marriage. I learned the importance of those kinds of statements. But the thing is, we didn’t really have problems. We’d just grown apart and moved into friends and co-parents without realizing it.”
Oak nodded, his cheek scraping against my sweatshirt. “My therapist likes those kinds of statements too.”
“I’m proud of you for seeking out a therapist. I know that’s not easy.” Since he brought it up, I figured it was safe to commenton it. But I really wanted to keep us on track. We didn’t have a whole lot of time, even though neither one of us would really get in trouble if our lunch break went on too long. “Will you tell me what happened that night? From your point of view, I mean.”
Oak fiddled with the strings of my hood, winding it around his finger and letting it go, only to do it again. Eventually, he sighed, glanced up, and then averted his gaze again.
