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Andi smiled. “Sweet and spicy. I think that should be our cooking team name.”
“You’re not going to let me live down calling you sweet, huh?” he asked with a smirk.
“Nope.” She scooted between him and the counter to grab the pasta pot. “And I would obviously be the spicy one in that equation.”
Without thinking, he braced his arms on the counter on each side of her, caging her in, and bent down and kissed the spot where her shoulder met her neck. “Maybe we could take turns. I’m not always sweet.”
She stilled for a moment, her back brushing against his front, and he quickly moved his hands off the counter. He hadn’t been thinking. He didn’t want her to ever feel trapped in any way.
“Sorry—” he started, but she spun around before he could continue.
She looked up at him from beneath those dark lashes of hers and gave him a little smile. “Forgot the camera was there?”
“Maybe just for a second,” he admitted. “But I was saying sorry about caging you in. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Caging me in?”
“With my arms,” he said, doing the motion again but lowering his arms quickly. “I know it might make you nervous to have someone in your space like that, blocking you from moving.”
Her lips parted as awareness dawned. “Oh. Right.” She glanced back at the camera. “Give me a sec.”
She stepped around him and headed back toward her phone. She touched the screen, presumably stopping the recording, and then walked back over to him.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She gave him a considering look, and then she stepped between him and the kitchen island and hoisted herself onto the counter so that she was closer to eye level with him. “I’m okay. But maybe we should talk.”
He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “All right.”
She took an audible breath, and a line appeared between her brows. “I know I’ve been vague about what happened to me. I hate talking about it. I rarely tell anyone. Hollyn doesn’t even know.”
“You don’t have to—”
She lifted a hand to gently halt him. “I know I don’t have to, but if we’re going to attempt this kind of friends-with-kissing relationship, we’ll need an open line of communication. I don’t want you to feel like you’re walking on eggshells around my triggers, and I also want you to feel comfortable being open with me about what’s going on with you. I’m not sure this works otherwise.”
“I think you’re right,” he agreed. “I’m really worried I’m going to do something to scare you.”
“Right. So maybe we should talk a little bit more about what may or may not freak me out and why,” she said, resolve in her voice even though she looked worried.
He nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”
She looked down at her hands, which she’d pressed flat against her thighs, and took a breath before looking up at him again. “I’m going to have to do this rip-the-Band-Aid-off style, okay? This is not a fun story to tell.”
“Whatever you need,” he said gently.
“So, I know you’re assuming I was sexually assaulted.”
The words were like a punch to his gut, but he managed to nod. “Yes.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Well, it’s probably not in the way you’re thinking.” She smoothed the loose fabric of her dress along her thighs in a slow, repetitive motion. “When I was fifteen, I had a huge crush on my neighbor, my best friend’s older brother, Evan. He was twenty-one.”
Hill kept his expression neutral, not wanting to scare her off talking, but the fact that this story was starting with her being a young teen made his fists curl. Someone hadn’t just hurt Andi, they’d hurt Baby Andi.
“I followed him around like a goddamned puppy dog when I went over to their house,” Andi said, derision in her voice. “He was always nice to me but mostly just being polite. Putting up with his little sister’s chatty friend, you know?” She glanced up. “I thought he would never actually notice me or see me as anything but a kid. But then one night, I was having a sleepover with his sister, and I went downstairs in the middle of the night to get some water. Evan was just getting home, and I ran into him in the kitchen.”
Hill noticed goose bumps prickling her arms, making the fine hairs stand up. He resisted the urge to reach out and warm her up, to soothe her in some way.
“He was as surprised to see me as I was to see him. But he couldn’t exactly ignore me, so he had to talk to me. His clothes were dirty, and he had a cut on his arm.” She looked off beyond Hill’s shoulder and rubbed her lips together, like she was seeing the memory. “Of course, I asked him what had happened. He told me he’d been out by the lake because he had trouble sleeping and had drunk a little too much and had fallen down and cut himself on a bush.”
