“Rough night or morning?” I say, trying to keep it light.
He shrugs. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
I grab the cream and sugar, even though I know he takes it black, just needing to do something with my hands.
“You always handle everything alone?”
He goes quiet, and for a second, I see something unfamiliar in his eyes…fear, maybe, or regret. He covers it fast, takes a long sip. “Some things are easier that way.”
Not being able to take it anymore, I lean in. Not letting him off easy. “Are you ever gonna let me in, Dean? Or is this just gonna be coffee and sex and pretending we’re not both thinking about more?”
He looks up at me, his face unreadable. “You sure you want to know more?”
“Yeah. I do. I’m not some naïve kid, you know?”
He sighs and sets his cup down. “Aubrey, I know you’re not. I just need you to trust me, okay? It’s nothing against you.”
That stings.
I cross my arms, becoming defensive. “I get it, Dean. You’ve got secrets. Everyone does. But it feels like you’re always waiting for something bad to happen. Like you don’t trust anyone. Not even me.”
He shifts, jaw ticking. “Aubrey, I do trust you.”
“Then act like it,” I shoot back, keeping my voice low so no one hears, and narrowing my gaze. “At least tell me why you’re always looking over your shoulder. Are you in some kind of trouble?”
He shakes his head, but it’s too fast, too practiced. “No trouble.”
“Bullshit, Dean. You’ve got a bruise that was not there last night, and it sure as hell didn’t come from falling out of bed. The way you flinch every time a truck backfires. That’s not nothing.”
He leans in, voice low and hard. “You really want to know? I’ve got a past, Aubrey. A bad one. Some of it is still chasing me. That’s all. Now let it go.” His gaze is stern and final.
I swallow. My heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest, but I’m too stubborn to back off. “Are you in danger? Am I?”
Still holding my gaze, he says, “I’d never let anything happen to you. That’s a promise.”
There’s an edge in his voice that makes me shiver. I want to believe him. God, I want to crawl across the booth, straddle his lap, and kiss him until he forgets about whatever it is chasing him. But I can’t ignore the fear in my gut.
“Dean,” I whisper, “I just want you to be honest with me. I really do care about you. And this…” I gesture, waving back and forth between us, “…it’s real for me. But I’m not stupid. I know you’re hiding shit.”
He looks away and rubs the back of his neck. “You ever think maybe you’re better off not knowing?”
“Maybe,” I say. “But I’m done pretending I don’t notice things. You don’t have to tell me everything. Just… be honest.”
He laughs bitterly. “I’ve never been a good liar, Aubrey.”
“Okay…well, that’s a start.”
Outside, rain starts to tap against the windows, and the diner hums with the usual noise of forks against plates, the coffee machine hissing, and low voices. But between us, the air is thick, heavy with things unsaid.
After a minute, I slide into the booth beside him instead of across. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him, the smell of his skin…soap, leather, trouble.
“I don’t scare easily, Dean,” I tell him, laying my hand on his thigh. “And you don’t have to protect me from whatever it is you’re running from.”
His jaw works. He cups my cheek. “You’re too good for my world, Aubrey.”
“Maybe I want it anyway,” I whisper, eyes locked on his. “Maybe I want all of you. Even the fucked-up parts.”
He breathes out slowly, like I’m killing him. “You’re going to hate me when you find out who I really am.”
