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He shifted his stance, but his brow was still furrowed. “I like to hang out with you.”
I shoved a finger in the direction of the restaurant. “Until someone better comes along. Look, I’ve been there, done that. I don’t need to actively witness it this time.”
Regret shone in his eyes. “Em—”
“No, you know what? This just shows me I’m not ready to do more. I’m not going to trust easily. And I’m not ready to be just casual. And I guess that was the ultimate goal of this night.” Tonight wasn’t a date, but it had been a test. A surprise quiz neither of us had acknowledged. But I had my answer. “Mission accomplished.” I backed up a step. My car was so close. I could dive in and be done with this mortifying conversation.
“You scared me.”
I paused. That wasn’t an apology, but I needed to hear more.
“I’m doing things with you that I swore I wouldn’t do with anyone ever again. I swore I wouldn’t be put in a place I could easily go with you.” He shoved a hand through his hair. It was dark and he wore a long-sleeved shirt, but that didn’t hide the flex of his muscles.
Fatigue swamped me. Pajama pants and a movie were all I wanted. “Then go see if Holly wants to join you in the back of your pickup. It seems like you two have a history, and you don’t have the same reservations about her.”
“I don’t want to fuck Holly.” He spat the words out. “Yes, we’ve been together, but it was just something to do. I don’t mean any more to her than she means to me.”
“And I’m tired of men and their bullshit.” With that, I strode to my car and got in. I thought I’d make a clean getaway, but I couldn’t shut the door.
He leaned in, one hand braced on the frame and the other on the door. “I’m really sorry.”
“Yeah, you said that.” I didn’t look at him, but stared out the windshield. I’d heard it before.
I’m sorry. I can’t help how I feel.
I’m sorry, but I don’t love you anymore.
I’m sorry, but she’s the one I want to spend my life with. You and I just grew apart.
“Em.” He let his head hang. “I don’t want to get my heart broken again any more than you do.”
It was the again that got me to finally look at him, to let my gaze stroke over his shadowed face under the streetlights.
He sighed. “It seems superficial when I look at what you’ve been through, but there was a time I thought I’d be the happily married guy with four kids by now. In the end, we went through a difficult time and didn’t make it. I was alone and hurt and swore I’d never be there again.”
The sadness etched into his features was startling. I dropped my gaze. “Yeah, that sounds familiar.”
“I was being an ass. Holly showed up and I knew she wouldn’t tie me up in knots because I’m not interested in her. I wasn’t going to do anything with her, just normal small-talk shit. But I shouldn’t have ignored you. It was immature.”
How sad was it that I got more of an apology from Holden than I had from Henry? “How old were you?”
“I’m thirty-one.”
That wasn’t what I’d meant. I shook my head, then froze. Frowning, I asked, “You’re thirty-one?”
“Yeah.” Confusion wrinkled his brow. “Why?”
“I’m thirty-two, almost thirty-three, and I feel like such a cougar. But no, how old were you when you almost got married?”
His jaw tightened, and I worried I’d asked too prying of a question, but the pain in his eyes was like a glimpse into his past. “Things went to hell nine years ago. I moved back shortly after that. And…” He looked over his shoulder at Rattler’s. “No one really knows anything about it. Only Stetson knows the details.”
A hard feat for a small town. It must’ve been devastating; I wouldn’t press further. He would’ve been around twenty-two. I had gotten married a year younger than that when Henry and I found out we were expecting. I’d given birth to Avery and juggled my internship and studied for my nursing boards with a newborn while Henry was in his first year of medical school.
It hadn’t been easy. Every time I thought the stress would let up, Henry wanted another kid and I relented. Like a part of me was afraid that if Henry didn’t get his way, he’d leave.
What would it have been like if I hadn’t gotten pregnant and I’d had the awful breakup with Henry then? I was so much younger. Less resilient. I’d had a normal childhood. My dad had died when I was a teen, and that was what had led me to nursing. But my work experiences in the hospital built the foundation I survived my divorce on; they really shaped me into a person who wasn’t going to stand for Henry’s shit.
I didn’t know what Holden meant bywent to hell, but it sounded like he’d been alone when it had happened. Or he’d felt alone. I’d had Mom, but I knew the feeling.
