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A few months ago, in the presence of this man, she would have.
Driven by fear.
Driven by her past.
But…quiet conversations on a deck overlooking the waves, trying to remember that her life was a small piece of the universe, something that was easy to be washed away by the ever-persisting waves. Trying to undo her mistakes.
Trying to take a step forward that wasn’t shackled to the past.
Finding who she could be without it.
Andthisman was saying she owed him.
Addingthatto all the shit swirling in her head, all the past and present and pull and push that was burning through her didn’t exactly sit easy.
She didn’t owe him anything—except for a few dozen more apologies, polite future interactions, and several bottles of the whiskey he liked.
Her past wasn’t on the table of her apology tour.
“Who hurt you?” he pressed.
“No one.” She stared off at the shore, even though the dunes were tucked away in shadows, the white crests of the waves silvered in the night.
He paused, shifted next to her, something she felt through every cell of her body.
Mostly because his warm, slightly rough fingers were still laced through hers.
“Except you told me that it wasn’t my business who hurt you.” His silky tone set her spine prickling. “Which means thereissomeone.”
Ugh.
Logic.
Damn smart man.
So she went with the only thing she could—subterfuge.
“Of course I’ve been hurt,” she said. “I’m an adult. There are always old hurts in someone’s past.”
“Old hurts that shade how you act today?”
Her inhale was sharp, but luckily, also silent. “Don’t everyone’s?”
He paused, fingers flexing in hers, and she thought he would push.Bracedfor him to push. Instead, though, he shared.
“You know my brothers.”
That was out there enough for her head to swivel, her eyes to lock onto his face—or, at least, his profile. He was staring out toward those dark dunes, the white-capped waves. And his jaw was tight.
“I know your brothers,” she confirmed after a moment. Because…well, she knew his brothers.
She didn’t get why he was asking a question he already knew the answer to, but she let him get on with that.
Because him talking meant she didn’t have to.
Meant she could build on her positive behavior without having to let him in further.
Because—groan—she’d told him she wanted him.
