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It came down to trust. These days, outside his family, he could count the people he trusted on one finger—Didier. He didn’t even trust Brad the way he should have. At the last minute, when he had the chance to trust Rachel and tell her the truth, he’d choked.
He ran a hand over his hair. Having her believe he was a drug dealer was kind of tempting.
Habit—that’s what it came down to. He listened to his motivational programs—he was self-aware. He knew he had a pattern with people, where he told himself he didn’t give a fuck what they wanted from him or how they used him, and then he walled off so he wouldn’t get hurt.
And, yes, he knew that in not trusting Rachel, he was really not trusting himself. He spent enough time in the team’s psychiatrist’s office to figure that one out for himself.
Shaking his head, he refocused on the bookshelves, looking for the self-help section. He’d come to the bookstore with the intention to buy Erik a few books that might help him figure out how to connect with people, but maybe he needed to pick up something for himself.
Precipice.
He remembered the word Lottie had given him and how she’d said that instead of falling he could fly. If only there were a book that could show him the path.
Really, he knew better. He’d see the path once he decided to commit to it.
Kissing Rachel had felt like flying.
The big problem: He wouldn’t be able to get any further with her without telling her about himself. That meant he couldn’t in good conscience make love to her.
He wanted that. He wanted thatvery badly. He didn’t know that he could want anyone so desperately, like an ache deep in his soul that would only abate if she were in his arms again.
After he’d left her, he could barely walk he was so hard. Somehow, he managed to drag himself back to the flat and into his room. He got into the shower, closed his eyes, and imagined it was her hand on him instead of his own.
Twice in the shower, and once later in bed, and he still hungered for her.
Hungered.
He’d never “made love” to anyone, but he knew that was what it’d be like with Rachel, because he cared about her. Monday night when she’d said she needed help, he wanted to jump in and do everything he could for her.
He cared about her.
He shook his head at himself. Being self-aware wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Finding the self-help section, he picked half a dozen books that he thought might serve Erik. He took the stack of books to the register and paid for them, opting to walk a bit before he hailed a taxi to take him back to the house.
As he walked down the street, looking into the store windows, he realized it’d probably been a good thing that Rachel had been too busy at work to see him the past couple days, though they’d texted. It’d been frustrating—very much so—but it was giving him the space to decide to trust her—and himself.
And here he’d thought he’d have everything figured out and resolved in a matter of days. Shaking his head at his hubris, he went to the edge of the sidewalk and raised his hand to flag a taxi.
Didier and Erik were in the kitchen when he arrived. Erik was slumped on a barstool at the counter, finishing off a sandwich. Didier leaned against the sink, a glass of water in his hand. They both looked up when Jamie walked in.
“I got these for you.” He set the bag of books in front of the kid.
Pushing his plate aside, Erik wiped his hands on his shorts and began taking the books out. “How to Win Friends and Influence People,” he read, setting the book aside as he pulled out the next one. “How to Talk to Anyone…Small Talk… You Are a Badass… Big Magic… The 48 Laws of Power…”Erik looked up at him.
“The last book is for me.” He’d seen it and thought of Didier and how Rachel said she thought his word waspower. Maybe the book would give him some insight into what Didier needed. Jamie put it aside to go over later. “I thought it might help to read a few tips on fostering interpersonal connections.”
“I love books,” Erik said, looking at him like he’d discovered something profound about him.
“I know.” He patted Erik’s shoulder as he looked at Didier. “What did you two get up to today?”
“We signed up for a talk at the university.” The Frenchman shrugged. “I don’t know how many girls will be at a seminar about artificial tissues and organs. We shall see.”
Erik blushed at Jamie’s raised brow. “I’m sure there are girls who love discussing membrane technology.”
“Très sexy,” Didier said. “Much more practical than the seminar on romance and poetry.”
“Poetry.” Erik made a face.
