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Until today.
“You good?” he asked softly as she came close.
So many emotions flittering across her face. So many he couldn’t keep up with deciphering them.
That, after allthat, she settled on a simple, “Yeah,” shouldn’t surprise him.
It still did anyway.
Because there had beenso muchon her face.
“Do you—” He broke off, suddenly second-guessing being here at all, waiting for her. This was opening a can of fucked-up worms, stirring the already boiling over pot, causing drama when he should be riding the wave of calm.
“Do I?” she prompted after a moment.
“Never mind,” he muttered, backing away from her door, turning for his car at the other end of the lot. “I should let you get on with your night. I’m sure you’re tired.”
“I’m—”
He turned back.
Something in her tone made it so he couldn’t do anything except turn back.
Turn back to watch as she clamped her lips together, shook her head. Then released a sigh so quiet, he wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t still within a few feet of her, if he hadn’t turned back, if the sound of the ocean wasn’t tempered by the grass-covered dunes behind them. “Goodnight, Connor.”
She reached into her purse and a moment later, the head and taillights flashed on her car, the locksclickingas they disengaged.
Then her fingers closed around the door handle.
“Wait.” He caught her arm.
He shouldn’t have.
He just…couldn’t stop himself.
His touch made her go still.
Very still.
Statue still. Encased in Carbonite still. Frozen like a deer in the—no pun intended—headlights still.
But she didn’t back away, didn’t tear herself from his hold, didn’t snap at him to let her go.
“I don’t understand,” he whispered.
That was the barest truth. The most minimal. The…lamest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m—I—it’s not you. I just—” Her eyes glistened, nearly overflowed with tears. And her voice—shit, it stabbed him somewhere deep inside. “I can’t talk about this.” Her throat worked; those tears slipped free. “I’m sorry—I just…I can’t talk about this withyou.”
Withhim.
Three months ago, he would have taken that personally.
Today, he slid his palm down her arm, took her hand in his, and asked, “Why don’t we talk about something else?”
She inhaled sharply enough that he tensed, worried about her lungs, but they were fine.Shewas fine. “What could you want to talk about?”
He paused.
