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“Max,” she murmurs, tracing a finger down the arm of my leather coat. “I want this to work. I really do. I just don’t know how to handle you.”
I grin. “I’d say you know how to handle me just fine. Like a pro, even.”
She rolls her eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.” She wipes her eyes and stares at me. “I never really know what’s going on in your head. You don’t want to scare me or have me think less of you or whatever.” She shrugs. “You’re kind of an island.”
“One where sex on the beach is legal? Yeah, that sounds pretty cool to me.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. Getting arrested for public fornication ain’t much fun.”
“You have a life, Max. A life that I know nothing about. A life that’s dangerous and full of people who do that to you.” She points to my face. “And that.” Her finger moves down toward my chest where all of the ink covers a past I’d very much like to forget. “And what’s worse is you not being honest with me about any of it. I’d never judge you. I just don’t see how we can ever be if there are all of these secrets blocking our way.”
“You know that I’d never want to hurt you, right? That I’d do anything to protect you?”
She nods. “Yes. I think you really believe that, but what you don’t realize is that’s just physical protection. When you hide things from me and not show up without an explanation, you’re still hurting me! But it’s almost worse because you aren’t trusting me enough to be honest.”
“The truth is harsh, Sloane.” I scrub a hand down the front of my face and collapse against the wall. “It’s scary. And a lot of it is out of my control. You…you’re so pure and good. I hate myself for even thinking about bringing you into this life. But I hate myself more when I let you down and when I see you with other guys like that douchebag doctor because I screwed up again.”
“I’m scared, too.” She crawls toward me and lays her head on my shoulder. “But I feel like I’d be less scared if I knew what we were dealing with instead of just guessing.”
A tiny shiver runs through me.
What we were dealing with.
She is fucking amazing. After everything I’ve put her through, she still thinks of us as a we.
“Your father wouldn’t be happy about it.”
“I’m not living my life for my dad. I’m living it for me.” She pulls away and tilts my face toward hers. “Do you get that? This may be stupid, and it may be the wrong decision for me to make, but it feels right. I’m empty when you’re gone, Max. I go through the motions, smiling when I need to even though I want to cry.” She lets out a little groan and hits her forehead with the back of her hand. “Ugh! I always give away too much. I really should’ve kept you guessing for a while longer. You don’t deserve to hear all of this so soon.”
“I don’t.” I trace a finger over the outline of her lips. “I don’t deserve a lot of things.”
“But I was serious before, Max. You’re a good guy. Whatever you’ve done in the past is done. I don’t care about who you used to be. I care about who you are now and who you’ll be in the future. We’ve all made mistakes and done things we’re not proud of. I’d never hold that against you.”
“Your dad doesn’t seem to have an issue with harboring, though. He might try to kill me in my sleep.”
Sloane shakes her head. “Nah, I think he’d go a little bigger than that. He’d want you to be awake. Maybe he’d plant a bomb in your truck or something.”
“Great. Something to look forward to.” My grin fades. “Speaking of which, I think we need to talk. I mean, really talk.”
Her eyebrows knit together. “Should I be nervous?”
“I’d like to tell you no, but that’d be lying.” I lean down, offer her a hand, and pull her to her feet so that our foreheads are almost touching. I breathe in, her sweet, floral scent consuming my senses. It almost stops me from what I’m about to do. It’s a sign, I’m sure. Of her innocence, her goodness, her pureness.
I’m about to strip all of that away.
Is it selfish of me, even if she wants it, too? Letting her in on things that she should never have to hear? I want to do right by her, but bringing her into my world can change things. Will change things.
Everything.
She says she wants me to be honest, but she really doesn’t. She can’t possibly.
Her hand grazes the side of my face, her eyes curious. “Max, what’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Nothing,” I murmur, pulling her tight against me. I press my fingertips into her back, inhaling her coconutty shampoo. A few more seconds of her body melting into me, and I’ll be too coconutty to remember why I’m here and what I need to do.
“Well, I like the way this talk is going so far,” she whispers, her fingers traveling up the back of my neck. My knees buckle a little when they start to massage the base of my skull, the place where that big, fat knot had taken up permanent residence.
