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After a beat, I nod. “Yes. I would say so.”

“But you have such a big warm family,” she says. “And tons of friends.”

“I don’t have tons of friends,” I say, finding it strangely easy to be honest with her, even about something like this. “I have professional connections, colleagues, and a few friends from high school who invite me to play hockey sometimes, but that’s it. And with my family, I’ve always been…different. The quiet one. The careful one. The one more naturally inclined to be suspicious and grouchy.”

“I’ve always been the quiet, careful one, too,” she says, holding my gaze with a soft, relaxed honesty that makes me think we’re getting to that vulnerable place Christian mentioned in his text. “I think maybe we have more in common than we’ve realized in the past. I also miss things sometimes. I’m so busy trying to accomplish my goals and give everyone what they need before they need it that sometimes I can’t see the forest for the trees. I didn’t realize until yesterday, for example, that Starling has a thing for your brother.”

“Matty?” My brows shoot up. “She really shouldn’t. Matty is a solid guy but he’s not ready to settle down. Not even close. He’s thinking about selling his house, living in a van, and spending the rest of his twenties driving through South America. He’s probably going to get kidnapped by a drug lord somewhere along the way and we’ll never see him again. I’d hate for Starling to be along for that ride.”

She smiles. “No, not Matty. Christian. But thanks for the warning.”

I scowl. “But she loathes Christian.”

“No, she doesn’t. She’s just upset that he still sees her as a kid when she wants him to see her as a woman.” She arches a pointed brow my way. “I know the feeling. So, I really should have realized what was happening a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry you felt that way,” I say. “But I didn’t think of you as a kid. Not really. Especially not at work. I’ve always been well aware that you’re the glue holding everything together. I just felt…protective outside of work.” My lips twist in a wry smile as I realize just how right she is. “I worried that you didn’t seem to fit in as easily as I might have hoped. That you were the one on the outside looking in.”

“Aw,” she says, her eyes shining again, but a happy shine this time. “You worried I didn’t have enough friends?”

“No. I just knew you were a little different, but in a good way. It confused me that other people didn’t see what I saw.”

“And what’s that?” she murmurs.

Ignoring my racing heart, I take the biggest risk yet. “That you’re the most amazing, kind, intelligent, capable woman I’ve met. No one compares. They don’t even come close.”

Her eyes go wide and for a second I think she’s going to tell me it was too much, too close, too vulnerable too fast. But then her lip trembles and her breath hitches and she bursts into tears, crying so hard the waiter bearing the check takes one look at us and quickly reverses direction, heading back toward the restaurant.

Well, fuck.

Chapter Sixteen

WREN

Stop crying! For real. Stop it. Now!

You’re freaking him out and ruining everything!

But I can’t stop.

Everything he just said…

It was everything I’ve ever dreamt of and more. He said it and he meant it. I could tell. “So, why am I crying?” I sob, swiping at my face with the weirdly non-absorbent cloth napkin.

Barrett shakes his head slowly side to side. “I don’t know, but it’s clearly my fault. I’m sorry.”

“No!” I protest. “Don’t be sorry. I loved it. It was so…beautiful.” I sob harder, the beauty feeling like it might break me.

“Then why are you crying?” He leans closer, his hand sliding to rest on my knee under the table. “Tell me how to do it better and next time, I will. I know asking for a do-over while we’re in the middle of a do-over isn’t a great sign, but I can change. Maybe not deep down, since I am who I am, but if it’s a protocol issue, I’m happy to switch things up. I don’t want to make you cry. Ever.”

I reach down, covering his hand with mine and squeezing it tight.

I suck in a breath and will the tears to stop. When they’re locked away beneath the lump in my throat, I say, “You’re doing great. I’m the one who needs a do-over. It’s just…” I trail off, swallowing hard and praying I won’t start crying again as I add, “I didn’t realize how much I still wanted you to say those things to me. To feel them. It took me by surprise.”

He shifts, threading his fingers through mine. “I do feel them. I’ve felt them for a long time. I was just too busy being bitter about the past to see what a good thing I had in the present.”

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