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“Billy is. Cameron … he’s had a lot to deal with. He acts out,” she answers softly.
“I can talk to him.”
“Thank you, Knight. I appreciate that, but I think he has an issue with male figures.”
“Why is that?”
“Long story,” she tells me.
“I have time.”
“Listen, you seem like a good guy, but I don’t know if this is going to work.”
“You were the one who wanted this, Lyra. What the hell?” I sit up and scoot against the headboard when she does the same.
“It’s complicated, Knight. I have kids. I have a past. I never know how long I’m going to be in one place.” She sounds sad about that, and maybe she is, but I know what this is.
“Who are you runnin’ from?” Her head jerks in my direction, her eyes wide. There’s my answer. She’s running from someone or something.
“I … I’m not.”
“You are. I can see it all over your face.”
“It’s complicated. Besides, you said it yourself: you’re not a good guy,” she says, throwing my words back at me as she climbs out of the bed and starts grabbing her clothes. I watch her dress.
“I’ve never in my twenty-eight years of life seen a woman as scared as you,” I tell her. Now she spins to face me, her mouth falling open.
“Twenty-eight? You’re only twenty-eight?” I chuckle and nod my head.
“Yeah.”
“Oh my God. I can’t do this,” she says, pulling her shirt on as I watch her.
“Oh, come on, Mama. This is good, and you know it.”
“I swore to never be with anyone younger than me. And you are.”
“And? That means shit to me.”
“It should mean something to you,” she says as she buttons her blouse back up. I climb out of the bed and move toward her, pulling her into my arms and holding her there.
“I can tell you this. I don’t care how old you are. I don’t care what you’re runnin’ from. You made me give you a piece of me I’ve never given anyone before. I’m not lettin’ you go that easily. Age means shit to me, Lyra.”
“I have kids, Knight! You don’t even have kids, and I do!” she says.
“And I don’t mind kids. I can help you with them. Don’t discard the idea of us, Lyra.”
“I can’t talk about what I’m running from right now.”
“But you will at some point?” I push her, needing to know.
“At some point, yes. It’s just too much too soon. I’m sorry,” she says.
“So you’re good with us?” she finally looks up at me, and I smile back at her. She has to be. I already gave her a piece of my soul.
“We can try this. The age thing …” she trails off.
“Means nothin’, darlin’. It means nothin’.” She watches me intently for a long minute before finally nodding her head.
