“Yeah, well, maybe don’t,” I bite out. “Because you’re notsupposedto—you don’t get to say things like that. You’re?—”
“What?” he cuts in. “I’m what?”
Effortless. Charming. Safe in the exact ways I never have been.
“You don’t get to… make me want something Ican’ttrust.”
His face shifts, just slightly, but I see it. He steps forward, slowly, like he’s approaching something breakable.
“You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trustanyone,” I whisper.
The wind rustles between us. My throat burns.
He is right in front of me now, but not crowding me.
“You think I’m trying to hurt you?”
I shake my head, eyes stinging. “No. That’s the problem.”
“Then, what is this?” he asks, voice lower now, like the truth is holy.
I don’t answer right away. Because I don’t know how to explain the war going on inside me. Every time he gets close, something in me screamsrun. Not because I don’t want this, because I do. That’s the part that’s killing me.
This is what I do. I push people away. I make it ugly so they don’t stay long enough to see the parts of me that are worse.
But he’s still here. Even now.
And suddenly, I hate how badly I want him to keep standing there. How much it terrifies me that he might.
My hands are shaking.
So I say it. The thing I haven’t said to anyone in years.
“I’m scared.”
Troy exhales.
“Of what?” he asks.
I lift my eyes to his. My voice comes out hoarse.
“Of how much Iwantthis.”
His jaw flexes. His whole body goes taut, like I’ve just flipped a switch inside him.
“I don’t do this,” I say, each word scraping my throat raw. “I don’t let people in. I don’t rely on anyone. Because theyalwaysleave. Or they lie. Or they fuck it all up and expect me to be the one who sweeps up the pieces. And the fucked up thing is I get it. I would leave me too.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, no hesitation. Like it's a fact. Like he already decided that weeks ago.
I shake my head.
“Delilah Greer,” he says, and there’s something about the way he says my name that makes my heart feel like it’s about to burst. “I’m not saying you need to plan our wedding. I’m not saying we have to label anything right now.”
He steps closer, eyes dark and fixed on mine.
“We can take this slow. Or fast. Or sideways, I don’t care. But I want to try. I want to see where this goes. And if I’m being completely honest…” He grins, just a little. “I really, really want to fucking kiss you again. Please ask me to ki?—”
