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“But you defended me,” I press on. “You defended me against a man who destroyed me, who made me feel gaslit, who made me feel like I had no place here or anywhere. You stood up for me, and you’re you and I’m me and . . .”
It meant more than you’ll ever know.
He frowns, and I see my reflection in the aviators. “What do you mean, you’re you and I’m me?”
I shrug. “You know. You’re . . .” I gesture to him and then wave at myself up and down. “And I’m . . .”
“This guy did a real number on you, didn’t he? Gaslit is the right fucking term. You sound just like him.”
I sigh. “I just mean, I’ve never had someone so . . . worldly and successful and smart and strong and respected go to bat for me. I’m used to having no one. To have it be you . . .”
I trail off and look down at the water sloshing rhythmically against the dock. I’ll say too much if I don’t shut up now.
“Then that isn’t right,” he says, his voice low, adjusting himself slightly to sit closer to me. “Because any man, any person worth their salt, would see how good you are. How sweet you are. How fun. You have a very pure, very big heart, Piper, and anyone who doesn’t see that isn’t worth your time. Sure, you run your mouth off a bit, but it keeps people on their toes. I know you keep me on my toes.”
“I annoy you,” I tell him. “There’s a difference.”
“You don’t annoy me,” he says. “You . . . transfix me.”
Transfix? Does he really know the way to my heart? Is he purposely going the Mr. Rochester route?
“Is it like staring at an eclipse?” I ask, half joking.
“Something like that,” he says after a moment. “Look at me.”
When Harrison tells you to look at him, you look at him.
He puts his glasses up on the top of his head so I can see his gorgeous eyes squinting at me. This feels like something big here, like this means something. A man who keeps his control behind a barrier is now baring himself for me to see.
Or maybe that’s what I want to see.
“I think you’re . . .” He licks his lips, and I watch, entranced. “A rare and precious thing. And it pains me to know how easily you’ve been discarded in the past, that others haven’t treated you with the respect that you deserve. And that’s why I need to apologize to you, because the last thing I wanted was to disrespect you or cause trouble for you. I fear I did that by not only making a scene in public when I should have been on my best behavior, behavior that was always supposed to reflect on you, but I got drunk and made you take me to your room. You put me to bed when I was a wasted shitbag; you took care of me. Were at my side when I had a nightmare, of all things. You did all that despite the trouble I put you through, and . . . well, my apology won’t ever seem like enough.”
I blink at him, still stuck on him calling me a rare and precious thing. I clutch that phrase to my heart.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, my throat feeling thick. “It’s really okay.”
“And I avoided you all week because . . . I was too afraid to face you.”
His eyes are downcast. Instinctively, I reach over and put my palm to his cheek, his skin hot from the sun, his stubble rough. “You’re facing me now. Please know that I always want you around, no matter what. And I accept your apology, even though I don’t think you needed to make it. I’m just so happy that you came with me. It meant a lot.”
“I really fucked that up,” he says, his eyes lifting to mine, his face turning just slightly so he’s close to kissing the palm of my hand.
Put your hand away. Stop touching him.
Remember what Monica said.
I relax my palm to let my hand fall, but he reaches out and envelops the back of my hand with his, pressing it against his cheek, holding it there. His eyes are searching mine, something very alive and anguished running through them. My palm tingles against his skin.
He closes his eyes and then moves my hand over to his mouth and places a kiss in my palm. Warm, fiery shivers cascade through my entire body, a fizzy, weightless feeling in my core.
Now I’m transfixed.
I just know that those lips against my palm are turning me inside out, and if this man were to ever kiss me on my mouth, I might not survive it.
