No. I didn’t. But I didn’t say that.
“I’ve just had a bad few weeks. And I’m not used to people doing something for me without wanting something in return.” She looked down. “You were kind. I made it ugly.”
I shook my head slowly. “I wasn’t being kind.”
That made her look at me.
“I enjoyed talking to you. That was all.”
“You enjoyed it?”
“Yeah.”
She was the first woman who didn’t flinch around me. I leaned forward slightly.
“I’ll take you back to the event.”
“No. Unless you don’t want me to come with you.” She shook her head, “I’m sorry. I projected. I made it ugly. I’ve had a bad week, and you… you showed up. And I didn’t know how to handle that.”
I stared at our hands.
“I’m hungry. Really hungry.” Her thumb brushed mine, “And if it’s okay…I’d like to try again.”
“I don’t do pity,”
“It’s not pity. It’s me telling you I’d like to come. But, I understand if you don’t want to after what I said.”
She looked at me like it mattered what I said next.
I nodded once. “If you’re uncomfortable at any point, you tell me. I’ll take you home. Or wherever you want.”
She relaxed back in the seat, smiling as she looked at me.
I stared her hand on mine. “What do you want to eat?”
“Whatever you want.”
I frowned. “That’s not the girl I met last time.”
“What?”
“You had opinions. Fire. Life. Now you’re just—” I gestured at her. “—going through the motions.”
She looked down. “Sorry.”
I didn’t mean it like she had disappointed me. But clearly that is how she saw it. I leaned in, touched her cheek, and tilted her face gently. Fuck, she was beautiful. And clearly trying to hold it together.
“You want takeaway?” I asked.
Her eyes lit up instantly, like I’d offered her something sacred.
“Really, no restaurants?”
“Whatever you want.”
She reached up and touched my hand where I cupped her cheek, her fingers brushing softly over mine. Then her gaze dropped to my other hand.
“You’re still wearing it,” she whispered. I glanced down.Herring.
