“Sure.”
“Why did you really come to Huckleberry Hill?”
I could deflect. Make a joke. Keep things light. Instead, I tell him the truth.
“I needed to get away from Reno. My ex had a way of making everything feel like my responsibility. His schedule, his bills, his happiness.”
The veins in Patton’s neck tighten. “Sounds like a loser.”
“And the son of the most successful casino owner in the city, which he was inheriting, taking over. He was passing off his responsibilities to me, but I let him.” Admitting this makes me feel small. “I kept thinking if I just tried harder, fixedmore things, he’d finally see me as—” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“It does,” Patton says, listening, really hearing me.
As if granted permission to speak freely, the rest flows out of me. “It was like my only value was in what I could do for him. I tried to be the perfect little girlfriend, and he just kept taking. Eventually, when I pushed back, he made me feel like I was selfish.” I pause. “We had a lot of friends in common, which made things awkward when our relationship finally ended.”
“You don’t need people like that in your life.”
“But I needed a job. My family needed help. I came here to prove I’m more than just the nice girl who fixes everything. I wanted to be taken seriously.”
He shifts on the cot and our legs touch, sending what feels like static electricity through me. “You are taken seriously. By me. By everyone.”
“Even at first? You thought I was silly. You’d call me the Parks & Rec Princess.”
“I was an idiot with zero emotional literacy or maturity.”
Our legs remain in contact and I can’t help but wonder if he felt the rush that has now settled into warm comfort.
“You were a jerk.”
“That too.” He shifts closer. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. You’re not silly. You’re brilliant. You build things that matter—community, connection, joy. You’re also beautiful, Miss Nevada.”
It’s like a candle flickers between us.
His eyes twinkle with mischief or is that affection?
My pulse taps out an erratic beat in my ears. “Your turn. Why were you so determined to push me away?”
He’s quiet for so long, I think he won’t answer. “After losing my dad, in a way, I lost my mother too.”
“I’m so sorry.” I reach for his hand.
“She fell apart. It took years for her to even function again.” His jaw clenches. “I swore I’d never put someone through that—make them worry about whether I’ll come back.”
Which means he committed to being alone.
“Love isn’t safe.” His voice is low, rough.
Each of the words hangs heavy between us, each of them a weight he’s carried for too long.
I could let it go. Change the subject. Instead, I say, “But love is worth it.”
He’s quiet for a long time.
I squinch closer to him and find his hand. “Patton, you make the world safer just by being in it. You run toward danger when most people flee from it. You’re so brave.” But is he brave enough to have this conversation?
He turns to look at me and the expression in his eyes makes my heart tumble. I shiver.
Without a word, he shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around my shoulders. Then he tugs me close, wrapping his arms around me and I nestle against the firm wall of his chest.
