“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.”
“Then why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not?—”
Thunder rumbled overhead, and the first drops of rain began falling from a cloud forming directly over me.
“Don’t lie to me.” Her voice shook. “I know I’m weird and I miss social cues, but I’m not blind.”
“You’re not weird. You're perfect.”
She held up a finger. “You’ve been avoiding me since the tour ended. Since—” She broke off, color rising in her cheeks. “Since you realized you were jealous of Niles.”
The rain increased, falling in earnest now, pattering on my shoulders.
“Since I realized I was jealous. Yes.”
“I don’t understand.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “We agreed this would be a friendly partnership.You said you had no interest in a real relationship. I accepted that. I thought that was what you wanted.”
“It is what I wanted.” I took another step closer. “It’s what I still want.”
“Then why?—”
“Because wanting something and being capable of it are different things.” Frustration bled into my voice. “I’ve spent ten years building walls around myself. I don’t let people in. I don’t form attachments. I learned that lesson too well when my parents died.”
Lightning cracked above me, and she flinched. A flick of her finger, and the rain slowed overhead.
“But you—” I gestured randomly. “You walk into my life, two hours late to our wedding, apologizing by explaining thermodynamics. You treat marriage to a stranger like a mildly interesting administrative task. You cool my chambers without thinking because you sense I’m warm. You talk to your dog like he’s a person. You get excited about volcanic cave systems and historical weather records.”
“Which you have yet to share with me.” Her shoulders sagged, and the rain slowed further, drops falling more gently now.
“You’re brilliant and scattered and you don’t perform for anyone. You exist, fully yourself, without apology.” My voice dropped. “And because of that, you terrify me.”
She stared at me, her lips parted in surprise. “Why?”
I closed the remaining distance between us. “Because I can’t seem to maintain professional distance from you. Because I think about you constantly. Because watching Niles sit too close and compliment you makes me want to shift and incinerate him on the spot, cousin or not.”
A snowflake drifted down, landingon her shoulder.
“You don’t understand what you do to me,” I said.
“Then explain it to me.” Her voice came out soft but steady. “I’m very good at understanding complex systems.” More snowflakes fell, drifting around her.
A rough laugh escaped me. “It’s not complex. It’s simple and primitive and completely inappropriate given our arrangement.” I reached out, unable to stop myself from touching her, and brushed a snowflake from her cheek. “I want you in a way I don’t even understand myself.”
Her breath caught. More snow began falling from the cloud overhead, gentle flakes that caught in her dark hair.
“I’ve been avoiding you because being near you and not touching you is torture,” I continued. “But I don’t know how to be what you need. I don’t know how to open myself up like that and survive if—when—it ends.”
“Who says it has to end?”
“Everything ends, Adele. People leave. They die. They disappoint you or you disappoint them.” I cupped her face, unable to resist anymore. “I can’t afford to care that deeply and lose again.”
She leaned into my touch, her cool skin a perfect contrast to my perpetual heat. “That’s not professional distance, Raoul. That’s cowardice.”
The word hit hard.
“You’re right.” I stroked my thumbs across her cheekbones. “It is cowardice. I’m terrified of you. Of this. Of whatever’s happening between us.”
