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“Every day,” she says, taking a small step away from me.
It’s jarring—not just physically but emotionally—to feel her back away.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“Have dinner with me tomorrow isn’t a question.”
She’s obfuscating. But I’m not letting her slip any further away.
“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?”
She scoffs, and her mouth curls into a small fake smile to cover myriad feelings. But as I stare into her eyes, I get a glimpse of the chaos inside. The nonstop chatter in her head. Sex is sex. But a date? A real date. I’m not sure that’s a good idea. What if he bails? I’m scared. Those are the words she’s using to build a wall between us, although I doubt she ever admits to being scared—even to herself.
The need to stop the destructive inner monologue that I’m imagining, to reassure her, to take care of her, drives me to a place I’m loath to go. A place with soul-baring, unfamiliar feelings, and so many other things that could spell my ruin. But there’s no fucking choice.
“On the plane, I asked you what it would take for us to have another chance. What you needed from me to make it happen. Do you remember?”
She nods. “I remember.”
“You never answered me. So I’ve been winging it.” I hate winging it. It feels too much like being out of control. “It’s not a long-term plan for a relationship. Not a solid one, anyway.”
“I don’t know. You’re winging it pretty well, Huntsman.”
That mask has got to go, even if I have to yank it off myself.
“For now, maybe. But if you’re not honest about your feelings, I’ll eventually fuck it up.” I might anyway.
She rubs her lips together and gazes at me, as if weighing her options—or maybe her words.
“What I need is some assurance that you won’t walk away at the drop of a hat. That when it gets hard, you’ll put your fears and misgivings aside and fight for us.”
This isn’t something she came up with on a whim. She’s thought about it long and hard.
What I need is some assurance that you won’t walk away at the drop of a hat. That when it gets hard, you’ll put your fears and misgivings aside and fight for us.
It sounds a lot like I need you to stop being a pussy and man up, Huntsman.
I can do that, because I might be many things, but I’m not a fucking coward. I’m a soldier at heart. I know about loyalty and perseverance. And I sure as hell know how to man up. Although this thing between us? It’s a different kind of battle—one that I have no experience fighting. I need the road map that she’s never going to give me.
“I love you,” she murmurs. “But I’m not looking for a promise of forever. I’m looking for a commitment toward making the relationship work. If you can’t promise to fight for us, there can be no more chances. My heart can’t take another battering. Neither can my self-esteem.”
Oh, baby. The rawness in her voice seeps into the depths of my soul.
I love you. That alone should scare me the fuck away, but it doesn’t. I step to the edge of the cliff, ignoring the murky water below, and dive in headfirst—like a fucking moron. Reckless.
“I’m not going anywhere, Angel. Even if I wanted to, I can’t get you out of my damn head. You’re under my skin. I’ve got it bad.” The words are low and gruff, but every one heartfelt.
It’s not the kind of admission a man like me makes often—if ever. It’s unguarded, and weak, leaving me exposed—and vulnerable. It cost me. No question. But remaining quiet will cost me much more.
The layers are raw and painful as they’re stripped away, mine and hers. It’s both uncomfortable and freeing, and the silence that follows is almost reverent. Not so different from the confessional booth.
My Angel’s quiet and lost—wading through the discomfort, for while there’s purity in truth, it’s blistering just the same.
Lexie swallows hard. “What can I do to make it easier for you?” She’s tossing me a safety net because she knows the value of what I just showed her.
I don’t have to search for the words to respond, because I’ve thought a lot about it too.
“You can remain locked up in the apartment—every day and night, wrapped in layers of Bubble Wrap. That would make it easier on me.”
