My heart slammed into my ribs. A breath escaped her lips. The anticipation that had been building inside me kicked into overdrive. I stopped and turned to face her. She took another step before she turned to face me.
“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice low.
She blinked, a slight flush staining her cheeks, visible in the barely there light. I understood her uncertainty. This was a new map for me. I had never traversed anything like this before—this kind of desire, a chemistry that burned so hot, I didn’t even know what it might do to me if I let it engulf me.
“You should thank Kendall,” she added with a sheepish smile.
“Kendall?” I tipped my head to the side.
“Yeah.”
“What for?”
“Because she told me I should give you a chance when I told her you asked for one.”
“Oh, well then, I’ll definitely thank her,” I said, unable to hide the grin tugging the corners of my mouth.
I stepped closer, reaching for her hands when she took them out of her pockets and started twisting them together in front of her. She tapped the toe of one of her boots nervously against the gravel.
“Adele, are you sure about this?” I asked.
“I’m not sure about anything,” she blurted out, her voice a little raspy and taut.
I nodded, my chest tightening. “I’m not either,” I admitted. But even though I wasn’t going to say it out loud—in part because I was afraid to, and in part because I definitely knew it might send her running—this feeling was deepening by the day. I knew it.
I knew whatever it was between us was important, and I couldn’t walk away from it. It would haunt me if I did. That wasn’t why I was asking for a chance though.
I mentally scoffed. Hell, I knew what it felt like to be haunted. Maybe not by romance or a woman who got away, but I’d lost myfather and my sister, and those losses haunted me. They always would.
I knew what it felt like to live with painful loss. I’d learned to live with the feeling. What pushed me to ask for a chance was how fervently I wanted Adele.
She finally spoke again, her voice lighter. “You’re mighty quiet, Cole.”
A chuckle rustled in my throat. “I suppose I am.” Pausing, I tried to formulate what I wanted to say. “I think it’ll be okay,” I finally added.
She blinked, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and my heart twisted at the sight. I had no idea how I was still standing, how I wasn’t shaking with need.
“How do you know?” she whispered, her eyes wide. “How could you know?”
“I don’t know,” I replied softly, “but I hope it’ll be okay. How about that?”
“It could get really messy,” she said, her voice low and serious.
“Sure, it could,” I agreed, leaning in a little closer. “But it could also be amazing.”
Adele blinked up at me. “Okay,” she said. Her voice was a little hoarse, and the sound tightened my heart.
My next question startled me. “What are you afraid of?”
For a moment, I felt her walls go up. It was almost a visceral experience—an acoustic one, like the sound of metal gates clanking shut. But then her gaze softened, and although she lifted her chin a little, I could see the vulnerability in her eyes.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed…” She paused. “I’m fairly independent.”
“Fairly?” I couldn’t help but tease, my heart warming at her admission.
“Yes,” she said. “You know about my health, and I’m fine.”
It almost hurt me to hear how much she needed to insist she was fine.
