“I don’t know, you had no problem going after what you wanted the other night in the library.” I shoot her a knowing and all too satisfied smirk, and she ducks her head, her face flushing that shade of pink I adore.
“That was different.”
“How so?”
She shrugs, still unable to meet my eyes. I give her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Well, for one, you were the most disconcerted I’d ever seen you. I mean, you came in with your usual smirk and swagger, butyou changed your tune pretty quickly. You were channeling Piper with your nervous rambling.”
I huff out a laugh. “Well, I thought I’d fucked up royally.”
“I know, and I think seeing that you aren’t always Mr. Confident somehow gave me some of my own. Confidence, I mean. That probably sounds silly, but—”
“It doesn’t,” I interrupt her, running my thumb soothingly over hers. “Not at all. And for the record, I may come across that way, but I’m just making this up as I go, too, baby. I’m constantly filled with self-doubt, I promise you.”
“You are?” She stops on the boardwalk and finally meets my eyes. I tighten my hold on Connor’s leash to halt him and turn so I’m facing her.
“I was a cocky little shit in high school, and then college humbled me. That was the first time I stumbled, but far from the last. Prison taught me never to show weakness, and I took that lesson to heart. The fact I gave you a glimpse the other night is a testament to how much I trust you, Sunshine, and how worried I was that I’d messed things up after we’ve come so far. But let’s not forget I spent nearly two decades running from myself—first with drugs, and then with actual physical distance. I’ve done some growing since then, and I’m working on myself, finally. I’m proud of how far I’ve come, but I still have a long way to go. I’m still an insecure mess more days than not.”
“What are you insecure about?”
“You.”
Her jaw drops. “Me?”
“Mm-hmm. You—us. I second-guess every move I make with you. You’re so precious to me, Steph, and there’s so much at stake. I’m always wondering, ‘Is it too much? Did I push too hard?’ Shit, I nearly had a meltdown when I thought you might not kiss me earlier. I was kicking myself for putting you in that position, but also devastated at the thought you might be ashamed of me.”
She starts shaking her head, but I push on, reassuring her. “It’s okay. I get it, and it means the world to me that you took that leap with me today. All I’m saying is, this is scary for me, too, even if I don’t always show it.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
I should probably leave it at that. I know I should. I literally just told her I worry about being too pushy with her, but this—it’s the perfect opportunity, when we’re being so real with each other right now.
I study her face, trying to gauge if I should bring it up, before ultimately deciding that, yes, I need to talk about it, hesitating only a moment before saying, “I also worry about … my son.” Steph’s eyes shoot to mine, and I swallow thickly before continuing. “I worry about when you might tell him, and if I’ll be a good dad. If he’ll even let me try to be one. He’s not a young child, and it’s not like I’m a good role model either …” I trail off. Steph sucks in a sharp breath, dropping my hand and taking a step back, causing my heart to squeeze painfully in the process.
Goddamnit. Always too pushy…
She watches me warily, but doesn’t say a word. I focus on my breathing, in and out … in and out … trying again not to spiral while allowing her the time to collect her thoughts.
Staring out at the water, she’s quiet for so long that I think she’s going to pretend I didn’t just bring it up. Finally, she says, “Every time you ask about the boys, I hold my breath, waiting for this question.”
I nod. “I’ve been trying to respect your wishes and give you time, but—when? When is enough time? I know you’re worried about how he’ll take it. I am too. But that’s not going to change with time.”
“Idothink you’ll be a good dad. I’m just not ready.”
I run a hand through my hair, blowing out a frustrated breath. “How do I convince you I’m not going anywhere this time?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers.
“I only want to spend time with him, Steph. It can just be as your boyfriend, we don’t have to tell him who I am yet …”
She nibbles on the corner of her lip, still staring out over the water. I reach out and cup her chin, tilting her face until she meets my questioning eyes.
“I’ll think about it,” she says.
I offer her my hand once more, and she takes it readily, gripping me tightly. We continue the remainder of our walk in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Back outside The Bean, I’m desperate to recover some of the lightheartedness from earlier, casting around for a way to shift the mood before we part.
