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“Delia?”
“My foster sister. She’s three years older. We’re still close.” Sharing so much and touching him felt like opening a door that had been closed a long time. The parts of me that hid behind that door couldn’t handle too much glaring light at once.
I told him a little more about life with Mama Gi, and he watched me speak, his face intent as I talked, and when we’d paid the bill and risen from our table, he held the little gate on the patio open for me to exit back to the sidewalk. He shot me a sideways glance, and then quietly said, “I’m sorry if your childhood was ever hard. I hate to think of you sad.” The words were so quiet, and his tone so low and tender, something in my heart skipped and I had to do a double take to make sure this was the same arrogant ass I’d met in the coffeehouse. Hale flipped so quickly between arrogance and bravado, sweetness and vulnerability, I got the sense he might be struggling with himself.
“Thanks,” I said, completely thrown off balance by Hale’s intense attention and his sweet words.
I was going to have to be careful. If I wasn’t, I’d end up falling for this guy.
“So I should probably…” I indicated the sidewalk that led back to my apartment.
Hale shrugged, a smile that looked like sad resignation on his face. “Are you sure?”
We stood just outside the restaurant, something new between us, something comfortable and awkward at once. Were we friends now? Were we something else? I thought of the way his thumb had rubbed across my fingers and shivered again. “Yeah, I better go.” I spun on my heel and began walking. “Thanks,” I called back over my shoulder.
I was running away. I just wasn’t sure from what. Before I’d gotten to the corner, his footsteps fell in beside me.
“Just so you know, I’m not following you. I parked in front of the coffee shop, Holland,” Hale said, grinning at me. It was clear he knew I was running away from him. And as he took the laptop bag from my shoulder and lugged it onto his own, it was clear he wouldn’t let me.
We walked in silence back to where we’d begun our day.
“Walk you home?” he asked.
I shook my head, still off balance. “Thanks for everything,” I said. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
“Are you all set now?”
I thought about what remained to be done. We both knew I still needed his help. I could see the knowledge lighting the arrogant glow in his eyes, lifting his mouth in a sexy-as-hell half-grin.
“Not really,” I admitted.
“Same time tomorrow, then?” he suggested.
I wanted to jump at the chance—more because he intrigued me and I wanted to spend time with him than because I desperately needed his help, though both were true. The realization of my non-work-related interest set off warning bells in me. I was getting distracted. Shouldn’t I care more about the presentation, the meeting? Why, then, did I find myself more interested in the guy helping me prepare? Say no, I told myself. “Okay,” I agreed.
Hale grinned at me, and I turned, walking slowly through lengthening shadows with full awareness of his eyes on my back, my ass. I was conscious of every muscle in my legs, every swing of my arms, and I turned the corner toward home feeling like a dancer darting into the wings, leaving the spotlight of the stage behind her. Reluctance and relief together. Hale had me drifting in contradiction.
