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“We’ll find it.” As she came over, her trail shoes made no sound on the concrete. “It’s probably in the closet. Or somewhere.”
He made some kind of noise in the back of his throat because he didn’t know what to say—and then he wasn’t thinking about words as she faced him and lifted a leg over the tank.
“What are you doing?” he blurted.
“I’m getting on with you.” She paused in an awkward tilt. “Unless… you’d rather I didn’t?”
He assessed her grip on the handlebars, the way her weight was off-balance, the casual strength that was required to keep herself upright.
“Usually the passenger gets on the back,” he said. “But I’m not complaining.”
“Good. Because… here is where I want to be.”
And suddenly she was on the bike just like he was, her thighs split around the tank, her face in frontof his, their knees touching. As he met her eyes, he became flustered, as if she were a stranger—and it gave him insight as to why she’d covered her breasts. Intimacy was like a muscle. If it was unused, it evaporated and left you vulnerable in ways you weren’t when you were with someone you felt close to.
“Hi,” Lydia whispered.
“Hi.” He cleared his throat. “Does Gus need me back in the lab?”
God, her eyes were beautiful, although he hated the sheen of tears that made them glow like sunlight through whiskey.
“Not right now,” she said softly.
Daniel took a deep breath. And another. “Sorry this is awkward.”
“It doesn’t have to be. It shouldn’t be.”
For a brief second, an old familiar flame lit up in his chest, and he focused on her lips. Talk about last time you did something. When had he kissed her last? Really kissed her—
“Kiss me, Daniel.”
Well, wasn’t she a mind reader. And as a stupid fear curled in his gut, he recognized the moment for what it was: If he didn’t bridge this gap right now, he knew there would be no going back.
“I don’t have much to offer you.” He cleared his throat as he remembered what his body had once looked like. “In terms of…”
He couldn’t recall when he’d had an erection last,and he wasn’t sure whether that was a permanent thing or not—or more accurately, he feared it was permanent.
Lydia brushed her fingertips over his cap, as if it were his hair. Then she blinked to keep her tears from falling. “Can I be honest about something?”
“I think you better be.” As he took another deep breath, he ignored the rattle in his lungs. “Now’s the time.”
She dropped her arms. Covered her mouth with her hand. Squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, Daniel… I’m going to miss you. I’m going to miss you so much.”
As she started to weep, he put his hands on her shoulders. Considering he’d been braced for her to say she was leaving him?
“Come here,” he choked out.
Lydia caved into his chest, and as he wrapped his arms around her, he felt stronger somehow.
“I haven’t wanted…” She hiccupped. “I want to be strong for you. You need to concentrate on getting through everything, and I don’t want you to think I’m not strong. That I’m not…”
She was babbling as she cried, the flood released, all the tension in her let go—everything he had sensed was kindling beneath her surface out in the open.
Closing his eyes, he stroked her back. “It’s all right. You can say all of this.”
“I can’t. I have to keep it—”
“Lydia.” When she straightened, he brushed her tears away. “Just because I’m not physically strong, doesn’t mean I can’t lift you up. I can handle your emotions—”
