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But as soon as I see him sitting on my front porch, I know I will.
The collar of his shirt is unbuttoned and his hair looks unkempt as usual. Somewhere between here and the restaurant, he lost some of his confident swagger. There’s concern in his eyes as I walk up the sidewalk.
He stands as I approach. “I was getting worried.”
I’m still not sure I want to talk to him. Without a word, I sweep past him and go inside. But I leave the door open.
I hear the door close as I drop my purse on the counter.
I whirl on him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you,” he says.
“What makes you think you have the right to barge in on me like that?” I ask. “I was out with someone, and you just walk up to my table? Again?”
“Come on, that wasn’t really a date,” he says.
“I don’t care what it was,” I say. “I could have been planning on fucking that guy’s brains out tonight. You had no idea.”
A flash of anger crosses his features. He did not like hearing that.
“But you weren’t,” he says, stepping closer. His calm tone is maddening. “And we both know why.”
“So, what is this?” I ask. “Do you consider this an apology? Because you’re terrible at it.”
“I haven’t even started to apologize,” he says, his voice low. He gets closer. “I have a lot of apologizing to do.”
The heat between my legs only makes me angrier. He should not be able to make me feel this way. “You are such an asshole.”
He stands right in front of me. I should move. He’s so close, I can feel his body heat. He wraps his hand around the back of my head, twining his fingers through my hair. God, I love how he does that.
No, I don’t. I’m angry. Furious.
“Listen to me,” he says. “I told you the second time we got together it wouldn’t be a mistake, and it wasn’t. I’m the one who screwed up, and fuck if I don’t know it. This is all on me, Selene, and I will literally do anything you want if you’ll just listen.”
“Fine, talk.”
He doesn’t let go. His face is so close our noses nearly touch. “I know I don’t have the right to kiss you yet, but fuck, Selene, I missed you so much.”
I almost kiss him, right there—my body aches for him—but I can’t let this be about sex. I move back, and he lets go.
“You said you wanted to talk,” I say.
“Do you want to sit down?” he asks.
“Not really.”
He lets out a breath and I try to keep my eyes away from his crotch, but he’s standing at attention and it’s so distracting.
“What?” I say when he doesn’t start talking. “Out with it.”
“I was scared,” he says. “You scared the fuck out of me, and I literally haven’t been scared of anything since I was in a car accident in college.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sarah said she told you about the accident, so you know what happened,” he says. “The bottom line is, Mike and Chelsea both died, and there was nothing I could do for them. I tried everything to keep them alive. I’ve never felt so helpless. And afterward, Selene, I should have died, too. I walked for two days to get help and my injuries were infected. When that trucker found me, my fever was so high I was delirious.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty for surviving,” I say. “It wasn’t your fault.”
