“But I don't."
The words come out firm this time. Certain.
I reach for his hand and grab it, forcing him to stop walking. He turns to face me, and I have to tilt my head back slightly to meet his eyes.
“I can't keep up with your stupidly long legs.”
Despite everything, the corner of his mouth twitches.
I loosen my grip, but I don't let go.
“Why would you even think it?” he asks, and there it is. It's not anger he’s feeling.
He's hurt.
Truthfully, I would be too if he ever suggested ending what we have.
“I let her get into my head. She knows exactly what to say to make me doubt everything. It was Dad's birthday, and I was already emotional and drunk and—” I exhale shakily. “It all felt too big. You and me. What it means.”
The lights flicker overhead, voices buzzing around us, but it suddenly feels like we’re standing in our own littlebubble.
“I don't want to end this. I was just scared.”
All I want to do is close the distance and wrap my arms around him. But there are too many people. Too many eyes.
He's quiet for a moment.
Too quiet even in this crowd.
We stand still, staring at each other as the market noise carries on around us. I wish he’d say something—anything at this point—before I explode with nerves.
His jaw ticks, and before I can even process the shift in him, he's moving.
One second we're in the middle of the crowd, the next he's guiding me firmly out of the flow of people and into the shadowed space of a narrow alley between two buildings. My back meets the cool brick, and his body is right there, close enough that I feel the heat of him through my coat.
“You drive me crazy, you know that?”
I nod slowly because I understand exactly what he means.
“All I think about is you,” he admits, the words leaving him in a quiet breath. “It's starting to feel … unhealthy.”
My chest constricts.
His palm drifts to the side of my neck, warm and steady. There's a quiet claim in the touch that makes me swallow. “You don't get to walk away again.”
“I won't.” I cradle his cheek. “I think I was more scared for you.”
His brows knit together. “Why?”
I hesitate, “Because you have more to lose than I do.”
“Willow. You have no idea what losing you would do to me.”
The raw honesty in his voice catches me completely off guard. There's a slight break at the end of the sentence, so small people probably wouldn't notice. But I do.
Sometimes it still amazes me that this man wants me. That he looks at me like I’m the only person who matters when he could have anyone.
“You won't have to find out,” I whisper.
