“I’m willing to give you time, Sophie,” he said as he walked around to her side of the bed. He stopped in front of her and exhaled, as if the look on her face had let out all his steam and he’d lost momentum. He brushed her hair behind her ear and cupped the back of her head.
Sophie looked up at him, at those eyes that spoke to her like nothing, like no one else. If she couldn’t make it work with him… They’d known each other a short time, as she’d said, but they’d been through a lot already. He’d sneaked in past some of her defenses. Part of that was because of how they’d met, because of what had happened to her. This man had been there for her in the hospital when nobody else had, and she’d been weak, physically and emotionally, and let him in further than she was usually comfortable with.
If she couldn’t make it work with him, chances were she wouldn’t be able to make it work with anyone, now or in the future.
Maybe she wasn’t trying hard enough. How big of a deal was it, really, to just give him what he wanted? Why not tell him all her secrets? Why not let him really know who she was and what she came from?
Panic seized her, and the bedroom walls seemed to close in at the thought.
Yeah. That was why. She was too much of a coward.
“Time won’t help, Nate. I’m not the kind of woman you’re looking for, and I’m sorry. I really, really wish I was.” She turned away and went to her dresser to dig out some clean clothes, barely able to see through the tears. “I’ll drive you home.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” he said, the first hint of anger seeping into his voice. “You’re going to take an amazing night, an amazing couple of weeks, and throw it away because you’re scared.”
“Yep,” she said, keeping her voice matter-of-fact, because really, he’d summed it up perfectly.
He swore and turned away, took a few steps, and picked up his jeans off the chair where he’d set his clothes. He yanked them on as she pulled on clean underwear and leggings.
“You know what kills me the most?” he asked. “The thing that attracted me to you from the first moment…” He shook his head and sucked in a loud breath as if steadying himself. “The thing that drew me in was your courage. The determination I saw in your eyes the instant I shined a light in them in the middle of a raging fucking fire. What happened to that, Sophie? Where’s that courage now?”
She swallowed hard, his words hitting a little too close to home. Right smack in the center of her. It took a gargantuan effort to keep her voice even, unaffected. “I guess it was false advertising.”
And this was exactly why she didn’t let people know her better. Because the person she was deep down, the one no one really knew, was never good enough for love.
Sophie pulled out the thickest sweatshirt she owned and zipped it up to her chin, but it did nothing to comfort her. “I’ll get my keys.”
As she walked past him, he reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her. They looked at each other for several eternal seconds until she broke eye contact, hating the hurt she saw in his, hating even more that she was the cause of it.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ll call a friend.” He whipped his shirt over his head.
“I said I’d give you a ride home—”
“I’ve got it covered. Good-bye, Sophie.”
14
Sophie was not going to Iona’s the next day to whine about her failed-before-it-really-started relationship with Nate.
She’d had to escape from her condo early that morning. The walls had been closing in on her all day, and all night too, ever since Nate had left. She’d gone to the dojo and convinced Jack to work with her for her first krav maga workout since the fire, but even that hadn’t helped. Trying to work at home today, the day before Thanksgiving — which was really her only option since she didn’t yet have a new office for Green Systems — had proven futile. Everywhere she looked, she saw Nate. He’d been to her place exactly twice, and yet he’d been in every room, infiltrated each one with memories, and right now, Sophie couldn’t handle those. She only wanted to forget.
After ringing Iona’s doorbell, Sophie took in the details of the tiny, well-kept adobe house tucked into a modest neighborhood on the mainland. This was the first time she’d been to her assistant’s house in the almost three years Iona had worked for her. And her visit had nothing to do with work. She was here because she once again craved friendship.
The door opened, and Iona’s welcoming smile gave her the sudden urge to cry.
“Come in,” Iona said, arms open for a hug.
Sophie went to her with only a moment’s hesitation before realizing a hug was exactly what she needed.
“Thanks for letting me barge in,” Sophie said, holding on to her friend for an extra moment to try to dry her eyes. “I brought beverages.” She handed Iona the bottle of Shiraz she’d picked up on the way over.
“The best kind of beverages. Thank you. I’ll pour us a glass.” She led the way down a short hall to an old-fashioned, compact, bright yellow kitchen with a built-in dinette. “Have a seat.”
“How soon are you leaving for Thanksgiving?” Sophie asked as she slid onto the wooden bench.
“Not till tomorrow. Noonish. Two-hour drive, and my family goes out to a restaurant for dinner every year so that nobody has to slave over a stove.”
“Going out on Thanksgiving sounds nice.”
