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“What did you think I was doing there?”

“I thought you liked the quiet.”

“I brought you tea.”

“You told me you had made too much.”

“That was obviously a lie.”

“It wasn’t obvious to me.”

There was so much sincerity in the admission that I felt an ache spread through my chest.

“You really didn’t know?”

Silas shook his head. “I knew what I wanted. I didn’t know what you wanted.”

“And then you went Red.”

His gaze dropped to the floor.

“Yes. And it would be better if you stayed away from me.”

His voice was quiet and controlled, but there was enough strain in it that I could hear the shame underneath.

“Because you think you might hurt me?”

“I almost did.”

“You didn’t.”

“But I could have.”

“That isn’t the same thing.”

Silas finally looked at me. “You stopped it.”

I held his gaze for a few seconds, trying to decide whether I was really going to say what had been sitting in my chest for weeks. Then I decided I was tired of hiding it.

“Okay. I’m going to tell you something.” I drew in a breath. “I wanted you, too. For some time now. I wanted you when I watched you carve, and I wanted you that morning when I was standing there with two mugs of tea and realized I was disappointed because you weren’t there. I like you, Silas. I think you’re handsome, you smell ridiculously good, and the first time I saw you, I wanted to put my arms around you from behind.”

Something in his expression shifted. The guarded look he wore so often loosened, and for once there was nothing between me and the surprise on his face.

“I didn’t know.”

“I know. Apparently neither of us is especially good at recognizing when someone likes us.”

A faint, almost disbelieving smile touched his mouth. “Apparently not.”

I studied him for another moment. “But you do want me?”

His eyes dropped to my mouth before he answered.

“I have for a while.”

There was no hesitation in the words, and hearing him finally say them made heat spread through me all over again.

“Then touch me.”