“You said as much at the bookstore,” he replied. She was talking, so he waited to explain why he’d reacted to her the way he had.
She let out a heavy breath and her shoulders settled. “I think I don’t trust others easily, in general. Like, I trust Tanner and Brady, right, but that’s different. Or at least I tell myself it is.”
“Right. They’re family,” he said.
“Yeah, they are, but my dad . . . he . . . well, he wasn’t a good dad. Mom packed us up into her station wagon and we left in the middle of the night. I was eleven.”
“That must’ve been hard leaving like that, as a kid,” he said.
“Easier than staying,” she said, and glanced at him. “He was an alcoholic. You know what that can be like. My dad was an angry drunk, and he had a gambling addiction, which meant he could get—”
Jake hadn’t known anything about Liz’s father; it had never come up with either her or Peony. However, he did know what it could be like to live with someone who suffered from addiction. He and Liz had more in common than he’d even realized.
“Anyway, yesterday, there was this kid with her dad in the stable. He was making her laugh and helping her tack up. It got me thinking about Brady’s situation, about Brett and all his damned secrets, and then I started thinking about my dad, which made me think about—”
She waved her hands in the air in a big circle and let out a breath.
“About what?” he prompted quietly.
“I think, in some stupid, fucked up way, I don’t trust my gut or my heart when it comes to love of any kind and it’s because of my dad, somehow. Not being what I needed, disappointing me over and over. If I don’t trust people, I can’t be disappointed. If I don’t fall in love, I can’t have my heart broken. Case in point, Darren telling me I was emotionally unavailable.”
“Doesn’t excuse his cheating,” Jake groused, and she nodded, a soft, “Uh-huh,” echoing out of her. Jake watched her face as she wrinkled her nose and looked out the loft window. He wasn’t sure what else to say to that. She was digging deep into herself right now. He touched her arm, and she let out a huff, focusing back on him.
“Some next-level daddy issues, right?” she said.
“You and everyone else living here right now,” Jake replied dryly.
That made her snort and push at his shoulder. He chuckled, happy that some of the tension was broken. They sat quietly, Jake’s eyes following some swallows diving up and down from a tree nearby, little trills and warbles echoing into the evening air.
He was waiting for her to put her walls back up or lash out when he pushed the idea of them being more. The heaviness of her admission wasn’t what they needed to say to one another, but if it was part of her process to explain why she’d pushed him away this morning, he’d sit here all night if he had to. Just like he’d been prepared to with Tanner earlier.
Liz turned in her seat and caught his eye after a few minutes. “You know, I think I wanted no strings because it meant I wouldn’t have to expose myself to emotions and shit that would mean I’d have to let someone in. I deluded myself it would be easy to turn all that off.”
“It isn’t, is it,” Jake murmured.
“No, if fucking isn’t. It was a decision I didn’t want to make, that I still don’t know if I can make. This morning, you put it right in front of me and I didn’t handle it very well.”
“I didn’t either,” he admitted.
“The stupid part was I wanted what you were offering, even if I wasn’t sure what it was,” she said.
“Something has changed between us, and I should have been more up front about how I was feeling,” he replied.
“You kinda were, but—” She huffed a breath, annoyed as she obviously searched for words. “Whatever this has become? I don’t know what to do about it, and I still don’t know exactly what is happening, despite what you said downstairs earlier.”
“What is happening is that this hasn’t been casual for a while, Liz. We’re more,” Jake said, and held his breath. That was the statement that would send her spinning, and he expected this was where she would push him away.
She turned to look at him, her forehead wrinkled, her eyes questioning. “Why, though? It’s easy. Just sex, and when you’re gone, a great memory. Seriously, you’re from New York, I’m from butt-fuck nowhere. How in the hell would that work?”
Her voice had risen, and her shoulders were back up around her ears. He steadied himself. He had to get this out before she rejected him outright.
“I don’t know, but I’m willing to find out,” he said.
“Why?” she repeated, her voice small and quiet.
His heart skipped a beat, hearing the uncertainty in her voice.Fuck it. He’d lay it out and if she ran, he’d chase her, even if it killed him in the end.
“You’re worth it,” he offered.
