Tears spilled from her eyes. Because he got it. Hedidunderstand why she felt the way she did.
“I thought about it all night,” he continued. “I thought about everything I could have done differently. You know me. I rarely second-guess myself, but I am now. I did abandon you. I told myself that it was for the best, but I know now that it wasn’t the best for you. My decision to push you away, to step back, had more to do with my feelings and nothing to do with you.”
Paige held her breath.His feelings?She wanted to ask him why, she wanted him to tell her more, but she was scared. Scared of the unknown, scared of the known. Her pulse raced, her stomach . . . She pressed a hand against her belly, hoping to calm the wild flutters.
“Andrew.”
“Let me finish,” he said. “I’m your agent, but I’m also your friend.”
That wordfriendhit Paige differently in that moment. He was her friend, but he wasn’tjusther friend. And it felt like a letdown, as irrational as it sounded. Paige averted her gaze, tried to gather her thoughts.
A sincere apologyshouldhave made her feel better. Yet, for some reason, it didn’t feel like enough—or even what she really needed from him. In the past, Paige never had a problem expressing herself with Andrew or sharing her truth. But now? Opening herself up would make her vulnerable to him. And she didn’t want to give anyone that much power over her again.
“I’m trying to leave.” He blew out a slow breath and inched toward her. “I want to honor your wishes, but I can’t. I need you to forgive me.”
Well, damn. Andrew didn’t come to play today. And . . .when did he get so close? Paige peered up at him, searching his eyes. She couldn’t figure out what she read in them, but it seemed a lot more complicated than an apology.Oh, he smells good.
Andrew brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. The simple, yet lingering touch was so gentle she wanted to lean into it. It also set off a surge of sensations inside her—some recognizable, others dangerous.
“I can’t think or even imagine walking away knowing that you might hate me,” he whispered.
She shuddered as his words washed over her. The pained expression on his face made her heart ache for him. Even though he’d hurt her, she could never hate him. She cared about him too much. And she wanted to take the road that led back to peace between them.
“I don’t hate you,” she breathed. She was pretty sure she felt the opposite of hate for the man in front of her.
“You don’t like me,” he amended.
“You’re right. I don’t like you right now.” She laughed when his eyes widened. She shoved him playfully. “I’m kidding.”
Andrew let out a tense laugh. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Well, kind of,” she added with a wide grin. “It was iffy for a while.”
“I could tell.”
Before she could respond, he pulled her into his arms.Oh shit. It wasn’t the first time they’d hugged, but it felt like it. And she couldn’t help but let herself relax into him. For a moment, she forgot about everything else. The only thing that mattered was how it felt to be in his arms, how it felt to be held so close. Because right now, she felt an abundance of peace, she felt comfortable, and she also felt . . .hot.
Oh God. Needing some distance, Paige eased out of his arms and backed away—all the way to the other side of the island. “Are you hungry?” He moved toward her, and she stepped out of reach. “I could make some breakfast—to go with the coffee.”
Andrew laughed, flashing the dimple on his right cheek that she loved. “Why do I think you’re running away from me?”
“I’m not,” she lied. “I’m just hungry.”
He scratched his jaw. “Okay.”
Paige dodged him again, walked the long way to the fridge, and pulled out eggs. “I can make something simple.” She slid him a sidelong glance and found him watching her intently. Turning back to the refrigerator, she blew that same errant strand of hair from her face. “Oh shoot. I forgot to order bacon.”
“It’s fine.”
“I do have turkey ham?” She pulled the package from one of the drawers and held it out to him. “I can make you an omelet. I didn’t buy enough cheese,” she muttered to herself.
“You don’t have to cook for me.”
Paige faced him then and smiled. “It’s nothing. Really. Plus, I’m hungry, too.”
“If you say so.” He tapped the countertop while she pulled several slices of ham from the package and set it on a cutting board. “I have a confession to make.”
Her eyes flashed to his. “Oh no.” They’d often broached uncomfortable conversations in the past by stating they had a confession. She hoped whatever it was wouldn’t derail the progress they’d made. “What is it?”
