“I tried to talk to you.” I tuck my arms around my stomach. “I showed up at your house yesterday for our run, and you were gone. I looked at you yesterday morning and you barely spared me a glance. You told me nothing would change, Tristan. Youpromised—what are you doing?”
He’s shucking his coat with jerky movements. “Giving you my coat.”
“I don’t want it.” I tip up my chin. Rain blurs my vision and sluices into my mouth.
“I don’t care.” He swings it over my shoulders in one swift movement. I mean to tear it off, but instead my handsclutch it closer. It smells like Tristan—whiskey and a hint of smoke and the scent of the evergreen hair products he uses.
“Go ahead.” He tucks his hands back into his pockets and holds himself still. The sweatpants dip dangerously low on his hips, and I will my gaze away. A rain-soaked Tristan Prince still holds a ridiculously magnetic appeal for me. “Yell at me.”
“Not when you want it.”
He barks a laugh. “I deserve it, Katie.” His eyes are hot and his throat works. “I am so fucking sorry.”
I tug the coat closer.
He takes one small step, then another. The rain turns his eyelashes into spikes of dark gold. “Forgive me, Katie.”
The words send a tremor through me. “For what?”
“For ignoring you. For running.”
“Why did you do it?” My voice sounds small and miserable and his mouth twists. We’re inches apart now. He reaches out and resettles the coat on my shoulders, his fingers lingering on the collar, then skating up my neck and tugging at the damp hair there.
“I’ve gotten very good at pretending I don’t have feelings.” He pulls a strand free, then sighs. “It’s been my default reaction for a while. Every time things got hard, or I felt too strongly, I’d distract myself, tell myself I didn’t feel anything.” He tugs another strand free, and I shiver at the cool touch of his fingers on my neck. “I don’t have an easy time feeling too much.”
His gaze meets mine in a flash of bright green and my stomach tumbles.
“Katie, you make me feel so out of control.” His words are rough and damp and I feel them reverberate in my chest.
I don’t know what to say. We’re on the precipice ofsomething, and I fear it might be everything I’ve ever wanted. I fear it will be ripped from me before it can ever take root, that things will be ruined before they’ve ever had a chance to begin. Wanting Tristan and not being able to have him has become a touchstone of my life, ballooning until it’s an immutable law—thou shalt not covet thy best friend.All I get is practice and I told myself it was enough because if I reached for more, I’d be devastated.
My insides twist around the corkscrew of hurt that’s been there since this morning.
“I’m so scared, Tristan.” The fear scrapes along my nerves, tightens my throat.
“Why are you scared, sweetheart?” His palm cups my jaw and his eyes are achingly gentle. My own heat in response, even in the cold rain. The depths of my fear feel endless, like if I give voice to them, I’ll uncover more instead of setting them free.
Sweetheart.
Tristan tells me with his gaze and his small smile that he can hold these things for me, that even if I break down, he’ll keep me from dissolving.
“Because of how much you mean to me. You’re my best friend, Tristan. I’m so scared to break things with you. To lose you.”
“Oh, Katie, no.” He presses his cheek to mine.
My lip trembles from the force of all the secret fears I keep locked up. “I told you I was sixteen control issues in a trench coat.” I let out a watery laugh. “I have to be. I have to keep going. I can’t look back. I can’t let myself linger.”
“Why not?”
“Because of all the bad things.” My voice breaks on the last word, and he pulls back to look at me.
“What bad things?”
“I’ve moved so many times, Tristan. Things have ended with so many people. I’ve been—” My voice cracks again. “So fucking alone. And I try not to hate it. I have you, don’t I? Reaching for more terrifies me, because there’s always a possibility I’ll be hurt.”
His lips are warm when they meet my forehead.
“I will never let you get hurt, Katie.”
