Page 109 of Seale the Deal

What should we do about it? I ask. About this? I lift our connected hands. It’s clear neither of us wants to let go of the other. That has to mean something.

Ruger’s gaze drops to our intertwined fingers again. I think I can’t make that decision.

Isn’t it our decision?

He shakes his head, then meets my gaze. No.

I blink because it’s not what I expected his answer to be.

What do you mean?

Ruger lets out a slow breath and moves to sit in a chair. He doesn’t let go of my hands. If anything, his grip tightens slightly.

Wrenley, he says softly, and hearing my name from him in that tone in this moment feels more intimate than any endearment could. You came here because your career got ripped out from under you. You came here because you needed a way forward, he says. And the career you’re talking about rebuilding doesn’t exist in Alpine Harbor.

The words are cruel, but they still sting because they’re true.

My ex and I went through something similar, he continues. Back then, I handled it like shit. I convinced myself I knew what was best for both of us. I made decisions for her instead of talking to her and ran from the consequences of those decisions. I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.

The honesty in his voice steals my breath.

Ruger—

No. He shakes his head. I need you to hear this.

His thumbs brush across my knuckles.

If your future takes you somewhere else, I’m not going to make that decision harder by asking you to stay. If you stay, I don’t want it to be because you feel obligated to.

My throat tightens.

That’s not fair, I say, squeezing his hands. You’re acting like this only affects me.

Something vulnerable flashes across his face. I know it affects me. The admission is painfully quiet. I know exactly how much it affects me.

How can I truly make a decision if we don’t try?

His eyes meet mine. Try what?

I stare at him for a second, wondering if he’s genuinely asking or if he’s giving me one last opportunity to back out of what I’m about to say.

This. I scooch my chair closer to his. Us.

It’s the first time one of us has actually said it. It’s equal parts exhilarating and scary.

I can’t make a decision about my future while pretending this isn’t happening, I continue. I can’t keep telling myself that everything I’m feeling is because we’re spending too much time together or because we’re planning a wedding or because we’re trapped in some weird immigration situation.

His mouth twitches. I get it. I’ve tried that too.

I mean it. My voice softens. Somewhere along the way, this stopped feeling like it was entirely about a green card.

The admission leaves me feeling exposed. Like I’ve peeled back a layer of skin and handed it to him.

I don’t know if I belong in Alaska, I admit. I don’t know if I belong in New York or Los Angeles either. Right now, I don’t know much of anything. My throat tightens. But I do know I want to stop avoiding you and see what this is.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows deeply.

What do you want, Wrenley? he asks quietly.