He grins. “No, it’s not. Tell me.”
“Gavin…”
I groan, trying desperately not to get sucked into the vortex surrounding him—the whirlpool that strips you of your defenses and makes you vulnerable to his charm. Dammit.
Like I have no choice—because I don’t—I find myself trying to make him understand.
“I don’t want to commit,” I say. “I don’t want to put myself out there.”
“Fair. But why?”
“I don’t know.” My skin suddenly feels too tight. The room is too small. I tug on the bottom of my shirt to get more air against my body. “I guess it’s that when I commit, or anyone commits, for that matter, you’re trusting them not to hurt you.”
My words fall between us. I don’t know what Gavin assumed I was going to say. But I don’t think this is it.
His playfulness melts away, and soberness replaces it.
These Marshall men are damn good men.
When I first met Chase and Gavin, I thought they were opposites. Chase was a grumpy cat. Gavin was a goofball. But now that I’ve spent more time with them, I see them more clearly. Sure, they’re still broody and carefree, respectively, but they both carry a heavy sense of responsibility. Kindness. They may wear it differently, but they wear it—impressively—nonetheless.
My throat is raw, as if the words scratched the thin lining of my esophagus. My body tingles like it’s suspended in time, and I’m waiting for something to break me out of the spell.
“I’ve never believed that anyone wouldn’t hurt me,” I say, my voice falling away.
His jaw clenches shut. “Has someone hurt you?”
“No, not like that,” I say, grinning softly, touched by his concern. “I’ve just not had many reasons to believe that the love you read about in books is real. And if it’s not, I’d rather save myself the time and energy.”And heartache when they cast me aside.
Tabitha places my bill on the table. “Do you need anything else?”
“I’m good. Thank you,” I say.
Gavin whisks the bill off the table and hands it back to the server. “Put it on my tab, please, Tab.”
“No. I’ll pay. Please.”
Gavin gives me a look like Chase—the one I know not to bother arguing against.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Yeah, well, I owed you one. I promised I’d buy your dinner after you went to Chase’s if it went bad, but he raced up here and got it before I could.”
I grin. “It’s not a competition.”
“Oh, I know.”
He stands and waits for me to get to my feet too. I grab a final drink of Sprite, leave a tip, and follow him outside.
“What are you doing today?” I ask him.
“Going back to work. You?”
I glance at my phone to check the time. “I’m heading to the school to pick up Kennedy in a little bit.”
“All right. Have fun. Tell my niece I said hi.”
“Will do.”
