But he took a step closer to me, not toward the door. Not touching me, but close enough I had to tilt my head back to look at him. Close enough I saw the flecks of gold in his brown eyes and a tiny scar near his hairline I’d never noticed before. “What did your plan involve, exactly?”
“I don’t know. Playful banter? Maybe some strategic accidental touching?” The blush was definitely spreading now. Down my neck, probably. “I didn’t get very far in the planning process. There may have been wine involved when I came up with it.”
“Strategic accidental touching?”
“Forget I said that. Forget I said any of this.” I covered my face with my hands. “I’m going to go lock myself in?—”
He took hold of my wrists and guided my hands from my face. “I like that you’re like this.”
“You like that I’m an awkward mess who can’t flirt?”
“I like that you’re honest.” He swept his thumbs over the backs of my wrists. “You’re not a mess.”
Kiss me, Garrett.Kiss me already.
“You’re…” He squeezed his eyes shut as he let go of my wrists and stepped back.
That didn’t feel like a prelude to kissing.
“Women like you—” He stopped, scrunched his face as though those were the wrong words, and restarted. “You light up every room you walk into. You make people feel like the world isn’t as dark as it actually is. Like somehow things might be okay.”
Oh, shit.This was the part where he’d let me down gently.
“Someone like that shouldn’t be with someone like me.”
It’s not you, it’s me.He was breaking up with me before anything could happen.
“I’ve got darkness in me that would snuff out your light.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, like he needed to physically restrain himself from touching me. “You deserve better.”
“You’re a soldier.” I stepped toward him, closing the distance he’d created. “Just because you were trained to do dark things to protect people doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of happiness.”
“It’s not about the military. It’s about… You don’t understand what I’ve done.”
“Then explain it to me.” I lifted my chin. Held his gaze. “Tell me the worst thing, the thing you think will make me run. And then let me decide for myself whether I’m running.”
For a long moment, he just looked at me. A battle raged behind his eyes, one I couldn’t see but could feel, like how you feel a storm building before the clouds arrive. The same battle he fought before each time he confessed a painful truth.
“My father,” he said finally. “I told you he was abusive. That he drank.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t tell you how it ended.”
“So tell me.” I moved to the bed and sat on the edge, giving him space to say whatever he needed to say. My whole body was still humming with want, with anticipation, but the ache in his voice made me push it all aside. “I’ll listen.”
He didn’t sit. Instead, he paced to the window and stood with his back to me, staring out at the city lights. “It was my sixteenth birthday.”
I crossed my legs, holding myself in place.
“Mom had thrown him out. She’d finally gotten a restraining order.” He let out a slow breath. “But he came to the house, saying he deserved to celebrate my birthday with us.”
I crossed my arms next.
“I wanted to call the cops, but for some reason… she still loved him despite everything. I could smell the tequila from across the room, but she let him in.”
My heart jumped up into my throat, and my brain lurched forward. Ended. He’d said this was about how things hadended. Whose end?
“We all went to the kitchen where she was making a pot roast and had put down some potatoes. He had a bottle with him, pulled it out, and said it was for everyone.” He took one hand out of his pocket and pressed it flat against the glass. “She stood up to him, which was probably the worst part. She told him not to drink in her house.”
