“But what? I know you meant it.”
I glance up at him, feeling my heart trip over itself. But I don’t say anything. I can’t say anything more.
“Please, Cat.” He shoves a hand through his hair. He looks so despondent that I can’t stand it. I want to turn and run out of here so I don’t have to look at his face, don’t have to hear what he’s saying. Because with every word, that feeling in my chest is intensifying and it’s too much. It feels like it could engulf me.
“I just want you to be honest, that’s all I’m asking for.” His eyes search mine. “Just tell me what you’re feeling.”
Something inside me breaks and I let out a frustrated groan, feeling all my defenses crumble down around me. “Of course I have feelings for you, Myles!” My words ring through the basement and I realize, in the silence, that the music has stopped.
There’s the tiniest, hopeful twitch on one side of his mouth. “Really?”
I raise my eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. “What do you think?”
“Why do you keep pushing me away then?”
“I don’t know. I’m just…” I give a humorless laugh. I’m sure he’s seen this coming a mile away. “It’s freaking me out. I have a terrible sense for these things and I’ve made so many mistakes. It’s like I can’t trust my feelings.” I glance up at him, asking quietly, “How are you so sure?”
“What?”
“How are you so sure that you… love me?”
He lifts a shoulder, offering a tentative smile. “Because I’ve never felt this intensely for someone before. I’ve liked you from the moment we met, and it’s only grown since then. Now, I guess… I can’t really imagine my life without you in it.”
I feel a smile nudge my lips. I had the exact same thought yesterday. It’s like he knew that, too. “And how are you so sure that I feel the same way?”
“Because I know how to trust my instincts. I feel like I’m pretty in touch with what’s going on here. My intuition tells me that deep down you feel the same, and I can trust that.”
Intuition. That’s what I’m missing—that’s what IthinkI’m listening to, but it’s always something else, pushing me in the wrong direction.
“I don’t have that,” I mumble. “I don’t have any intuition.”
Myles tilts his head. “Everyone does. You just have to know how to hear it.”
“How do you do that?”
Amusement touches his mouth. “Meditation helps.”
“Fucking meditation. Everyone is obsessed with meditation.”
“For good reason.” He chuckles, gazing at me gently. “Look, all you have to do is stop listening to what others are saying—what youthinkyou should feel. If you listen closely, you’ll know what matters to you. What does your head tell you?”
“Run,” I answer honestly, cringing.
He nods, as if he expected that answer. “But what does yourhearttell you?”
I meet his gaze again. “I think you know what it’s telling me.”
“Yeah.” Little crinkles form around his eyes. “You just have to decide which one you want to listen to.”
I ponder his kind, patient face, letting his words sink in. I’ve been so stuck in my head, overwhelmed by relentless, fearful thoughts that insisted I need to keep my distance from him. Every time I felt like taking a step closer to Myles, those thoughts pulled me back, convinced me nothing real could happen between us, made me certain he’s wrong for me. But then I remember what Geoff said earlier—how he was certain about one thing, then he realized he was wrong. What if all this certainty I’ve had about Myles is wrong? What if I’ve been thinking one thing, but the opposite is true?
And then it occurs to me: maybe my inner compass is just pointing in the wrong direction. Instead of leading me toward things, it’s directing meawayfrom them—not only in my love life, but in everything. It took Myles showing up for me to trust my own designs again, to believe I could get away from Mark, to take a new risk with my business. It took Myles showing up for me to question the way I’ve been dressing, the way I’ve been hiding myself from others. And it took him showing up for me to risk letting another man into my bed—and possibly into my heart.
Maybe I don’t trust love right now, but Idotrust Myles. That means I could learn to trust love again. And while I’m not there yet, I think it’s possible I could maybe, one day, lovehimtoo.
Holy hell.
I gulp in a breath as this realization hits me. This is the problem with being honest with yourself—it’s terrifying.
