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That was an understatement. “Uh, yes. I told you last night. I’m the king of avoidance.”
“And I’m a people pleaser.”
She looked so busted he felt terrible for her. For him. For the bad timing.
“Hey, come here.” He tugged her arm. “Give me a goodbye hug, Ed.”
She let him pull her vertical, but her bottom lip was trembling. There were dark bruises under her eyes. From the tequila or a restless night, he wasn’t sure. “I don’t want a hug,” she said. “That is not what I want from you.”
It wasn’t a petulant or cruel comment. It sounded… suggestive. Like she wanted more than a simple hug.
He studied her. “Do you want a cup of coffee?” he murmured.
She shook her head. “I want to know what you’re avoiding.”
Telling her how he felt wasn’t betraying his word to her father.
Touching her would be. Picking her up and carrying her off to the bedroom would not be the right thing to do.
But maybe she needed to know what he was thinking. What was in his head and in his very gun shy heart.
“I’m trying to avoid being selfish. I’ve done enough of that in my time.”
“What does that mean?” She took his hand and held it, lacing her fingers through his.
The touch was unexpected and it sent an electrical charge through his body. He stared down at their hands, struck dumb by the incongruity of it all. How could it feel so perfect and not be right? It defied logic.
“What if I told you there is a woman I’m falling for?” he asked, needing to feel her out, even knowing she was leaving in a few hours to return to her life and her boyfriend. Shoot his shot. “And she’s amazing and funny and smart as hell.”
Her perfect lips formed a perfect “O.” Her eyebrows lifted. Her chest rose and fell rapidly in her sleep T-shirt.
When she didn’t say anything, he kept talking. Throwing it out there. Laying it on the line. “And what if I told you that I could see myself with her. That I know I would be really damn happy with her and I would work my ass off to make her happy as well because she’s really damn special.”
“So what’s the problem?” she whispered. “Why can’t you be with this woman?”
“Because she’s already in a relationship. A serious one. What would you tell me to do? Do I keep my mouth shut?” Probably too late for that. “If I talk to her, what do I tell her?”
Eddie studied him under her long eyelashes, her expression serious, vulnerable.
He was sure she knew what he was implying. That he meant her. And him. And that he was asking if there was a shot at them being together. Ever. Now or sometime in the future.
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but then she tucked her hair behind her ear and murmured, “You need to tell her what it is that you’re offering her. What you bring to the table.”
He didn’t know what he’d expected her to say. He knew what he wanted her to say. That she’d break up with Nigel and be with him. But he definitely hadn’t expectedthat.
It sounded like she was asking him to hand over his resume and his last three months’ worth of bank statements.
What did he have to offer?
The words were like a bucket of ice water over his head.
Who the fuck did he think he was, asking her to even consider giving up everything she had, for him?
He owned a bar. He had a child. He wasn’t rich, never would be. He lived in a small town with busybodies and he had a shitty reputation for fucking every single woman that walked and he could only argue that was half false. He still wore T-shirts he’d had since high school and his house had burned down as the result of poor safety during sex.
He still wasn’t sure he’d entirely processed his anger that Kendra had lost her life so young, that his son had lost his mother.
He had exactly nothing to offer but a damaged heart and a legacy of poor decisions.
