Finally, I look at her, not surprised to see the total shock in her expression. “I had a complete meltdown about how fast everything was moving and ended things before they could really begin.”
“Oh, honey.” Riley’s voice goes soft with sympathy, which somehow makes this worse. “What happened? You seemed so happy about your little cooking debacle and your upcoming coffee date.”
“I was happy. That’s the problem.” I set my phone face down and reach for the coffee. “I was relaxed, falling for him faster than I’ve ever fallen for anyone, and it terrified me. We’ve barely spent any real time together, but lying in his arms felt… right. Too right. So I did what I always do when I’m scared—I pulled away first.
Riley studies my face with the careful attention she usually reserves for legal briefs. “This is about David, isn’t it?”
“Everythingis about David,” I admit. “That’s exactly what scares me. That’s what scares me. What if I’m confusing intensity with connection again?”
“What if you’renotwrong?” Riley challenges. “What if this time is different, and you’re throwing it away because you’re too scared to find out? Look, I get that the timeline is crazy. But maybe that’s exactly what makes it meaningful.”
She pauses, then shrugs. “Or maybe it really is just new-relationship energy and incredible sex. So what? Why not enjoy the ride until it plays itself out? You’ve been miserable and celibate for eighteen months. Maybe you deserve some fun.”
“But what if I get attached, and then it falls apart?”
“What if you don’t get attached and miss out on something real?”
I bury my face in my hands, the weight of the morning pressing down on me. When I look up, Riley grabs my phone in the way only a best friend would have the nerve to do. “Looks like that handsome orc was texting you all morning, worried about you.That’s not the behavior of someone who was just looking for a hookup.”
“What if I’ve already ruined it? What if he decides I’m too much drama and moves on?”
“Then you’ll survive it, the same way you survived David. But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s the kind of man who fights for what he wants?”
I look down at my phone again, at his patient messages waiting for a response. The rational part of my brain knows Riley is right—I’m reacting out of fear, not logic. But the scared part of me, the part that still bears the scars from David’s betrayal, whispers that it’s better to be alone than to risk that kind of pain again.
“I told him I wasn’t ready,” I say quietly. “And maybe that’s true… or maybe it’s just safer than trying.”
“Are you? Ready?”
“I don’t know.” I meet her eyes, feeling younger and more vulnerable than I have in years. “Two days ago, I wasn’t even ready to have a date. Now I’ve gone and…” I clap my lips together before I say the words, “caught feelings for him.”
Riley’s smart enough to keep her mouth shut.
“And I… basically told him I was falling for him… before I ran out this morning. This is terrifying.”
Riley is quiet for a moment, then stands and moves around the table to hug me. “You don’t have to decide everything right now,” she starts, but I cut her off.
“Actually, I do. And I have.” Pulling back from her embrace, I keep my voice steady with newfound certainty. “I’m not calling him. He deserves someone who can meet him halfway, not someone afraid to commit.”
Riley’s face falls. “Jordan—”
“No. This isn’t right for me. I’m not someone who throws caution to the wind after two days. I’m methodical, careful, and I don’t rebuild my life on impulse—no matter how tempting.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“Maybe. But it’s my mistake to make.” I meet her eyes steadily. “He’s a good male, Riley. He deserves someone who can give him her whole heart without reservation. That’s not me.”
Riley is quiet for a long moment, then gathers our empty coffee cups with obvious reluctance. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I do. For the first time in days, I actually do.”
After she leaves—working overtime to cover for a colleague—I sit alone in my kitchen, staring at Forge’s messages. Each one is patient, understanding, everything he thinks I need. But I don’t respond. Iwon’trespond.
This is the right choice. The smart choice. The choice that protects us both from the inevitable disappointment when the intensity fades and we’re just two people who barely know each other.
I delete his contact information and turn off my phone.
Chapter Eleven
