As if loving someone came as easily to him as breathing.
“You matter too,” she whispered so softly that it was a wonder he heard her, but the softening around his mouth told her there was nothing wrong with his hearing.
“That’s why I’m still here.”
The catch in his voice undid her. Such simple words. They shouldn’t make her chest ache like she’d taken a hundred-foot whipper fall, the rope catching just before impact.
“You shouldn’t be.” She paced to the window, then back. The room suddenly felt as confining as taking the wrong turn into one of the inaccessible canyons, walls pressing in, no obvious escape route. “You should be running away as fast as you can.”
“Because that’s what everyone else does to you?”
Yeah. Exactly, Sabrina thought to herself.
His gaze burned into her back, but she didn’t dare glance at him. Whatever magic trick he thought he was going to pull to make this okay wasn’t happening.
“Because all this emotional stuff isn’t what we’re doing here. We’re having fun. That’s all.”
Fun was safe. Fun didn’t require vulnerability or trust or any of the hundred other things relationships demanded. Fun didn’t plunk her down at a crossroads where she had to choose to give up Noah or wait around until he inevitably decided she was too much.
Of course, given the current state of things, Noah didn’t feel like so much of a flight risk all at once.
She was the one who got that role.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I am having fun.” His voice remained steady, but something flickered in his expression. “Okay, granted, not right this second. But only because I kind of thought this would play out a bit differently.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I have to know. How did you think this would play out?”
“With a lot less panic and a lot more kissing.” His brow quirked. “And in my head, neither of us were dressed.”
He still wasn’t because he hadn’t moved from where he’d sat back against the pillow, calmly taking whatever she threw at him. The guy had definitely found his calling with a profession that required meticulous patience and the ability to avoid tricky spots liable to crumble underneath him.
Also, Noah without a shirt should come with a warning label: “May cause unavoidable distraction.”
“Maybe getting dressed is a good idea,” she muttered. “And I’m not panicking.”
Very much.
“I was talking about me,” he countered, and she shot him a look. “What, you think because I’m not wailing and gnashing my teeth that this conversation is easy for me?”
Yeah, she had thought that. He was so unflappable, so strong and capable. It wasn’t like she could hurt him.
Could she?
The walls closed in tighter. Her heart thundered against her ribs like it was trying to escape. This was exactly why he should have kept things casual, uncomplicated. No one got hurt that way.
Especially not Noah.
Oh, man. How had they gotten to a place where she was the one who had the power to hurt this amazing, sensitive, beautiful man?
Because she hadn’t seen him coming. Not even a little bit. This had all happened one tiny step at a time. That first date. Training with Ripley. Working the case together. All those late-night phone calls where she’d told him things she’d never told anyone.
When had he become so essential to her daily rhythm?
“I can’t do this.” The words tumbled out before she could stop them. “I didn’t—this kind of thing is not me. Relationships, feelings, all of it. I told you that.”
“Did you?” Noah’s head tilted. “I remember you saying men couldn’t keep up. That relationships fizzled out. But I don’t remember you saying you didn’t want one.”
Oh, she so had. She’d made it crystal clear that she didn’t trust easily, that she didn’t do commitment. Probably. Maybe.
