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“I could say it in a British accent, but it’s still going to sound dumb,” she said, raising her dark eyebrows.
I snorted. “Is family not important to you, Laurel?”
“It is…” she hedged, fidgeting uncomfortably.
“Oh boy,” I picked off one of her rolls and took a bite. “Let’s swap family drama.”
Reluctantly, she smiled. “My mom just kind of sucks. She cares now, in her own way, but I was pretty much on my own growing up. How about you?”
I swallowed and bobbed my head back and forth as I thought. “Similar story. I grew up here, but around the age of ten, my parents split, and I ended up with my dad in New York. He’s a broker there.” I nudged her hand, prompting her to take another bite of soup. “My dad was never around and didn’t seem to care what I did with myself. So, I guess at some point, I decided I’d just dive into something that didn’t leave a lot of room for thought.”
“Medical school would do that,” she said before putting another spoonful of soup in her mouth.
“It did, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have to do the hard work to overcome how I felt,” I said with a pointed eyebrow raise for her benefit.
She made a dismissive sound. “I did the therapist thing.”
I blinked slowly, pursing my lips.
Laurel avoided my gaze, stirring her spoon around her soup bowl idly. “I know what you’re saying. I get it. But I’m the bad kind of distracted, you know? Like, I can barely breathe every day, and even if I did make the time to‘feel things,’” she made air quotes with her fingers derisively, “I don’t have time to deal with the fallout. It’s like I’m running on water if that makes sense.”
I nodded. “And if you stop, you’ll drown.”
“Right.” Her eyelashes flickered as she glanced up at me briefly.
“Not if someone catches you, Laurel,” I said softly.
She swallowed visibly. “No one has time to save a drowning single mom. It’s notanyone else’sproblem, either,” she added pointedly.
“I can make it my problem,” I said. “I’m a good swimmer.” She clicked her tongue, looking away like what I’d said was absurd. I hooked a finger and turned her chin toward me. “Laurel. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Tears lined the bottom of her eyelids suddenly, and her brows contracted subtly. “Don’t.”
“Don’t, what?” I challenged. Frustration welled up inside of me. Why was she being so stubborn about this? “Is it me?” I asked, an unthinkable realization dawning on me. “Did I read you wrong? I thought you felt an attraction, and I mean, literally twenty minutes ago we were—”
“Stop, no,” she held up her hands, dropping her spoon. It clanged loudly on her plate. Her expression was equal parts mortification and frustration. “No, no, I like you. I like you a lot. It’s just… it’s hard to explain.”
“Try,” I ordered, folding my arms.
She groaned, looking down and picking at a roll, circling the crumbs between her fingers to make a tiny bread ball. “I can’t. I want to, but I just… there are things in the way, Lach.”
“Like what?” I pushed on obstinately. I had expected her to agree with me. I thought we’d been on the same page, so what the hell was this?
“Like stuff,” she said just as angrily.
I studied her expression, taking in the tears that she valiantly tried to blink back and the frustrated line her lips were making. “You’re scared,” I said suddenly. “You’re scared that whatever nuke dropped on your life is going to happen again, so you’re pushing me away.”
She bit the inside of her lip.
“Laurel—”
Her phone buzzed on the bed next to us, and she glanced at it. With what I could only assume was relief for the distraction, she snatched up the phone and answered immediately. “Hello?” As she listened to the other voice, panic settled over her features. “She does? Okay, I’ll be right there. No, no, I’m feeling better.” She paused, listening. “Mom, I’m fine. Just have her ready to go, okay? Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Saved by the kid.
Fourteen
Laurel
