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“I know.” Sam sighed as he wrung out his rag into the sink at the end of the coffee bar.

“What’s that sigh?”

“Nothing.” Sam’s weary and weighted voice called him a liar. “Just…don’t go getting a hopeless crush on a guy who won’t stick around.”

My turn to give him a pointed look, complete with a tilt of my head and a slow eye blink.

“Ask me how I know.” Sam dried his hands with brisk motions. “Not everyone is meant for the small-town life. Not everyone is going to want what you have to offer. You can keep reaching and reaching, but at a certain point, you have to accept it’s not going to work.”

Gah. The truth in those words hurt. Could I really keep reaching for Cal if he never reached back, if he never wanted to be the kind of team I wanted? And if he wasn’t meant for staying, what was I really doing? But the last thing I wanted was to further discuss the state of my non-relationship with Cal, so I gave Sam another long look.

“I take it you haven’t heard from Worth.”

Sam snorted, seeing through me the way only a good friend could. “I thought we were talking about you and Cal.”

“I don’t want to talk about Cal.”

“Uh-huh.” Sam bit the inside of his cheek, released it. He leaned against the bar. “Well, I don’t want to talk about Worth. I heard one of the investigators flew down to ask him questions, but he was less than helpful.”

“He’s hurting. Maybe he’s not ready to talk.” I was talking about Worth, but my brain flashed to Cal. Maybe he wasn’t ready to give up his solo diving crusade. Maybe he wasn’t ready for what I had to offer. But not ready wasn’t the same thing as never ever, and maybe I could have been more patient, more understanding in our discussion the day before.

“Hurt doesn’t mean you get to treat people poorly. Or oneself.” Sam gave a sharp nod as I made a strangled noise. “You okay? Still don’t want to talk about Cal?”

Why can’t you care about your own safety? Of course Cal wasn’t going to value his own neck the way I did. He was hurting. But he’d never treated me poorly, never shut me out, never made promises he couldn’t keep, never lashed out at me. No, Cal’s favorite target was Cal, which was heartbreaking. I’d do battle with any number of demons for Cal to find real healing.

Perhaps the missing ingredient here was my patience. Maybe I’d asked for too much, too soon. However, it didn’t matter how much room or space I gave Cal when the siren song of the open road was always going to win.

“No point in talking.” Rubbing my temples, I glanced around, willing customers to appear to distract Sam from the conversation. When none appeared, I slumped further in my chair. “Like you said, he was always going to leave.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam came around the counter to lay a hand on my shoulder. “That had to be hard, asking him to stay and him choosing to leave anyway.”

“I didn’t exactly ask.” The words slid out with a fair dose of recrimination. I was an idiot. All that talk yesterday, and none of the words that really mattered. And for what? Why had I held back my heart? Why not ask for what I wanted most? I’d hinted and tried to make it about Cal but never really shared my feelings. And why?

Fear. No. Hurt. All this time, I’d focused on Cal and his past hurts and wounds, but I had them too. Letting him go was easier than asking him point-blank to stay. And it was easier to tell him I wanted him in one piece than to say I wanted, needed, required him in my life, my bed, my heart.

I’d talked in half-truths and made demands for his safety, but I hadn’t really offered him a reason to stay. And had he really chosen to leave? Or had I not stopped him? There was an important distinction there, one I was on the verge of grasping, and I made a frustrated noise.

Buzz. Buzz. My phone went off mid-contemplation, startling me into raising my gaze back to Sam. His narrowed-eyed expression was both concerned and slightly pitying, undoubtedly chalking up my failures with Cal to more of my usual antics. He was probably readying more good advice I wasn’t particularly in the mood to hear, so I scooted away from the table to take the call.

“Cal said to call you.” Rob barked a greeting that struck terror in my gut, a heavy sandbag of every awful possibility hitting all at once.

“Is he all right?” I gasped, each word a struggle. “Where is he?”

“Oh heck. I forgot you two are…a thing?” Rob’s voice went up a notch as my heart rate refused to slow. “Think Knox mentioned that. Anyway, your guy is fine. Cal is on his way to the lake at my request. We’ve got reports of a missing diver.”

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