Page 24 of Chasing Amanda

He couldn’t bring himself to let her go. Not yet. Just gazed down at her, this beautiful woman gazing up at him with wide blue eyes.

Her cheeks were still pink, but she smiled. He rested his forehead against hers, knowing the answer to her question. Knowing exactly why she’d been spared in that car accident.

For him.

No.

It took all his strength, but he stepped away from her. “I’m glad you told me. About the accident. That must’ve been… I can’t imagine.”

He sounded like an idiot.

She closed her eyes.

He took her hand and started walking again. Forcing himself to take his eyes off her so he could think straight.

All he wanted to do was kiss her again.

He’d tell her now, and it would all be over.

His gut did a weird wrenching thing, like something was ripping apart in there. And something was. His heart.

“What?” Her question was soft, almost fearful.

He looked at her, saw her studying him, and looked away. “I didn’t say anything.”

“It’s written all over your face. You’re upset. You’re sorry you kissed me.”

He pulled in a deep breath and pushed it out. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Tears pooled in her eyes.

Nice. Make her cry. What was wrong with him? “I’m sorry. Please don’t be offended. I’ve spent the last few years of my life trying very hard not to get involved with anyone, and now with just a week left…”

He hadn’t meant to say it that way. Man, he was screwing this up.

“A week left until what?” She squeezed his hand and smiled, though it was slight. “Do you have to go back to Krypton?”

Superman again. She wouldn’t think that much longer.

“I’m being deployed in a week.”

She stopped. “Deployed?” The pitch of her voice rose to a near squeak. “What do you mean?”

“I’m a Marine, Amanda. I’m going to Afghanistan.”

Her breath whooshed away as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her. She rested her hand over her heart. “Oh. That’s…no.” She wiped away fresh tears and turned toward the beach. “I should’ve… Of course.”

When she said nothing else, he asked, “Are you okay?”

She shook her head.

He led her to a bench about ten feet away. They sat beside each other. “I’m sorry. About all of this. I should’ve just handed you the sack with the stupid pepper spray and key chain and taken off.”

Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Why would you say that? You’re sorry you kissed me. Now you’re sorry we got to know each other. Are you sorry you met me, too? Sorry you followed me out of the bar the other night?”

A wave of frustration colored his tone. “If I hadn’t followed you⁠—”

“Maybe you’re sorry about that, too.”