Page 98 of Run to Me

I heave a sigh. “Thanks, man.”

“Do you need to talk anything through? Unload some baggage?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve just had a few busy weeks.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look like you haven’t slept in years.”

I fist his collar, drag him into my office, and slam the door. “Don’t air my shit to the world, Javi. Especially shit that doesn’t exist.”

He points at my face, his tone equally harsh. “This isn’t fake. You’re losing it, man. Again.”

“I have a lot going on. My attention is split.”

“See, that’s your problem. Or the opposite of your problem. You can’t split your focus. You’re all in, dude, with one thing or another. And if she gets all your attention, what happens to everything else?”

“I’m handling it,” I hiss.

“Lie to yourself, but don’t lie to me. I’m trying to help you! Tell me what the issue is. What has you losing sleep? And be honest.”

Javi spins a chair around and drops into it, arms crossed, making it clear he’s not going anywhere until I confess all. Sighing, I lean against my desk and scratch my beard while deciding how much to disclose. I settle on sharing my biggest worry.

“She’s not all the way in with me,” I say.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know her. She’s holding back because she’s afraid I’ll hurt her again. I’m trying everything I can think of to get her fully on board with this. With us.”

I’m the one doing all the pushing and pulling in this relationship while Maisy stands still. It doesn’t help that her heart’s protected by a thick, invisible steel wall.

“Y’all seemed fine the other day at the festival, locked away in your office.”

“The sex isn’t an issue. It’s everything else.”

He makes an X with his wrists and shudders. “Whoa. No, dude. That’s Logan’s baby sister. Just…no.”

“She’s a grown woman, Javi.”

“Doesn’t matter. Trevor and I agreed any talk of her in a non-sisterly way is off the table.”

“Would’ve been nice if I was there when you made the agreement, but fine.”

Getting us back on track, he says, “Have you labeled whatever this is? If you need her to check a box for yes or no, then give her a damn love note. She’s not a mind reader.”

“She knows how I feel.”

“Have you asked her how she feels?” When all I respond with is a blank stare, he draws his own conclusions. Unfortunately, he’s spot on. “Ah, I see. You’re afraid of her answer. That explains why you want her to make the first move.” He chuckles. “Funny. She made the first move years ago, and how did that turn out for you?”

I point at him. “Watch yourself, Javi. Don’t imply things that never happened. She didn’t make a move.”

“My point is she asked you to speak up, and you didn’t. You want her to speak up now, but you won’t ask. You’re the maker of your own mess, man. Clean it up.”

“I can’t believe people actually pay you for advice.”

“They pay me for hard truths. To hold a mirror up and force them to look. And trust me, nobody likes what they see at first glance. We’re nothing but walking rough drafts until we open ourselves up for criticism and build on the feedback.”

“You wrote one book, and now you’re making book metaphors.”

He shrugs. “I’m a life coach. Coaches have an arsenal of metaphors at the ready.”