Wren closed her eyes at the memory. How had he known she’d been thinking the polar opposite at that moment? Wren hadn’t believed his words to be true, but she’d let herself play with the thought. If she were, in fact, perfect for Lee in every way, then he would have to be perfect for her. And that wasn’t possible, since he was unlike her in so many ways.
He was open; she was closed. He was fearless; she was terrified. He was flawless; she was ruined. He had peace; she had pain. In the throes of their lovemaking that first time, she’d told him the truth. She wanted to be just like him. To be open and fearless and flawless and peaceful.
Was that even possible? And if it were, if she were those things, wouldn’t she then be his true match? Because then she would be free to love him. It would be safe to love him.
But I already love him.
There it was. The real problem. Wren had lived for almost twenty years being closed, terrified, ruined, and pained. She knew how to live that way. She could do that in her sleep — as long as she slept alone.
But, sharing all of that with somebody else? Letting someone else see all of that up close? What would be the point of that?
On Lee’s kayak, Wren had told him that she didn’t believe in love. That was the truth. At least she didn’t believe that love was for her. Of course, she knew that Mamaw Gigi loved her. And Cherise loved her. And Rocky and Shelby loved her. But theirs was the kind of one-size-fits-all love. They loved her as they loved lots of other people. And they could because they didn’t have to limit themselves to her alone.
But romantic love?
Lee was used to the best. If Lee had picked Victor, who’d been the best puppy of the litter, then out of all the women in the world, why in hell would he pick her? Why would he pick ruined when he could have flawless?
And this was the real problem. Because none of that stopped Wren from loving him. At this dooming thought, tears welled in her eyes. The fact that Lee could choose better — and surely, eventually, would choose better — didn’t protect her. It didn’t inoculate her against loving him. She loved him; it was undeniable. And how could she not? He was sweet and funny and warm and real and sexy as hell. And this just meant that when the day came for Lee to realize that she was too damaged to love, she would feel it like nothing else. She would feel it, and it would be like being burned from the inside out.
Wren put down her pen and shut her eyes, sending tears down her cheeks, already sensing that immolation at the center of her being. And with her eyes closed, Wren jumped when her phone buzzed in her lap.
Lee:Are you still awake?
She stared at her phone through the blur of her tears. If she didn’t text back, he might call. And if he called, he’d be able to hear the distress in her voice. Wren wiped her eyes and texted back with sass she didn’t feel.
Wren:Of course. Who goes to bed this early besides you? Sketching an egret.
So, it wasn’t completely true. Technically, she was in bed in her pajamas, and she’d actually stopped sketching to make room for crying, but Lee didn’t need to know that.
Lee:Good to know. Could you come to the door and let me in?
Wren froze. Let him in? She wiped her eyes again.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
Lee:Please?
She jumped out of bed and grabbed her robe. Wrapping it around herself and tying the sash, Wren ducked into the bathroom to assess the damage.
“Shit.” Her glasses did nothing to hide the fact that she’d been crying. How was she going to explain herself? And what the hell was he doing here anyway?
Reaching her front door, she slid open the chain lock but paused before opening the deadbolt.
“Lee?” she called through the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you… Can I come in?”
Wren pressed her forehead against the door. “But why?”
She thought she heard Lee chuckle. “Because. I want to be with you. Would you let me in?”
Chewing on the corner of her lip, Wren weighed her options. “What if I say no?”
He was silent a moment. “Please don’t say no.” His voice had gone softer, and Wren felt it against her heart.
She wanted to see him. She wanted to let him in, but that would mean explaining her red-rimmed eyes and her general state of unworthiness.
“Please, Wren…” he repeated.
