AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I myself had descended into that hole for a bit a few years ago. There were still blank spots in my past because I’d drunk so much that I had no memory of what I’d done. It’d been a scary, awful era, and I absolutely did not want that what-the-hell-did-I-get-myself-into-last-night kind of regret for Fox.
This was a sign that something was seriously wrong in his life, and that something was me.
I shuddered and hugged myself as I watched him exit his truck and round the front bumper before making his way up my sidewalk.
I had called his brother-in-law when Fox hadn’t answered any of my calls last night. And I’d told Beau that Fox had drunk dialed me—which he had—probably on accident—hey, I was living proof that was possible—and that we’d gotten disconnected abruptly, so I worried he might need help. And I’d managed to convince Beau to go over there and check to make sure Fox was okay.
I was so worried that I’d even been willing to risk revealing our relationship to the world if a drunk Fox ended up unloading all his woes about me when Beau arrived.
But Beau had called me back twenty minutes later, saying all was fine. Fox had been in his bed, passed out cold, and still wearing his shoes, lying wrapped around his pillow like he was hugging a teddy bear.
A part of my heart had cracked then and there, picturing him drunk and alone, consoling himself with a freaking pillow.
Tipping his head so the bill of his new hat would shade his eyes from the bright sunlight, Fox made his way to my front door now, with a brisk stride.
I only needed to take one look at the T-shirt and jogging shorts with tennis shoes he was wearing to remember—
“Shit,” I announced, opening the door before he even stepped onto the front step. “It’s Saturday morning. You were with your one client at the gym, weren’t you? I just made you leave work.”
“It’s fine,” he assured me, looking up to pierce me with those penetrating, dark brown eyes of his. “We can reschedule later.”
I nodded and stepped back, holding the door open for him to enter. He crossed the threshold but stopped only a few feet inside, where he uneasily rubbed the back of his neck and turned to face me.
He didn’t say anything, leaving it up to me to start the conversation, which was fine. I’d called him over here because I’d practiced what to say and was ready for this. But now that it was here, I kind of freaked out.
So I started with, “Do you remember talking to me last night?”
A muscle in his jaw jumped. But then he nodded. “Yeah. Most of it, anyway. Enough to know I owe you about a thousand apologies.”
Narrowing my eyes, I pointed a threatening finger at him. “If you apologize to me once, I will legit punch you in the stomach.”
With a dry laugh, he lifted his hands helplessly. “So I’m not allowed to regret being a complete ass to you?”
“I think what you were,” I started slowly, “was being completely honest with me. For about the first time in nine months. Weren’t you?”
Guilt laced his expression as he jammed his hands into his pockets and stiffened his shoulders before admitting, “I guess. Yeah. I think I was.”
I nodded, understanding, but then tears filled my eyes. “Dammit,” I muttered, lifting my arms to press the heels of my palms against the center of my forehead. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be no strings, no worries, no complications. Just...the perfect situation. Where no one could get hurt. I wasn’t supposed to get hurt. You sure as hell weren’t supposed to get hurt. But look at you.” I flung out my hands aggressively, taking in his bloodshot eyes and rumpled workout clothes. “I’ve made you absolutely miserable.”
His eyes filled with compassion, and the tears in my eyes poured down my cheeks as he stepped toward me. I shook my head, denying the comfort I already knew he was going to offer. I didn’t deserve it. Not from him.
But he pulled me into his embrace anyway. I shuddered and sank into him gratefully, greedily soaking up his warmth, even though I knew I wasn’t worthy of it.
“I love you,” he murmured into my hair, making me squeeze my eyes shut and grip the front of his shirt for dear life. “And I will take strings, and worries, and complications, and all the miserable downsides that come with caring about someone. Because you’re worth it. But I need to ask you one thing first.”
I pulled back just far enough to look up at him.
“And don’t fucking lie, okay?” he said, steadily, looking me straight in the eye. “Don’t hold back because you’re worried about my feelings or how it’ll make you look. You feel what you feel, and I know it’s not something you can control. It’s not something you have to be ashamed of or afraid of or anything like that. It’s fine, no matter how you answer. I just—I need to know, okay, so I can deal accordingly with whatever you reply. Please…” He cupped my face in his hands. “Just tell me what’s going on in here.”
My eyes flooded again. “What’s going on in here is that I’m scared to death,” I choked out. “You scare me.”
He squinted his eyes in confusion and then shook his head. “How do I scare you?”
“Be—because you’re too much.” I brushed him off me and took a step back so I could think and not be so overwhelmed by his amazing presence. He let me go, watching me the whole time as I hugged myself. “You’re just too fucking much.”
Pain shot through his expression. I groaned and dug the heel of my palm back into my forehead. “Dammit. I’m messing this up.”
“I don’t understand,” he finally rasped, blinking rapidly as if he might start crying with me. “I’m too much of what?”
