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His smile disappeared. “Okay.”

I rubbed my palms against my thighs. “How much do you like me?”

His eyebrows rose. “Why?”

“Just answer.”

He leaned back. “A lot.”

“How much is a lot?”

“Blair.”

“What?”

“You came to my house, wouldn’t kiss me, refused alcohol, sat six feet away, and now you’re asking me to quantify my feelings.”

He pointed between us. “My anxiety is starting to get anxiety.”

“I like you.” His voice softened. “More than I planned to this soon. I think about you when you’re not around. I like talking to you. I like being around you. I like that you’re funny even when you’re not trying to be. I like watching you work. I like how serious you get about shit you care about.”

His eyes moved over my face. “And I like where this is going.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you like me?”

He frowned. “Blair, what is this?”

“Just…” I looked down. “Please tell me.”

“Because I think you’re a good woman.”

My eyes filled with tears.

“Hey.” He started moving closer.

I held up my hand. “I’m fine.”

I wiped underneath my eyes. “That’s why you need to know this.”

“Know what?”

I inhaled. There were a thousand ways to tell him. I’d practiced most of them. Every version sounded different. Some made me look better. Some made Caleb look worse. Some conveniently left out the parts that made my stomach turn, but Nash didn’t deserve the version that helped me sleep at night. He deserved the truth.

“My last relationship was with a married man.”

Nash didn’t move or blink. I continued before fear stopped me.

“I knew he was married. I found out on our first date. I walked away initially, but he kept contacting me.”

Nash remained silent.

“He told me his marriage was over emotionally. That his wife had been struggling mentally and they were basically living separate lives. He said he wanted to leave, but she wasn’t emotionally stable enough for him to just walk away.”

My hands shook. “He told me that she knew he talked to other women. Eventually, I believed him.”