Page 31 of Cruz

What about him? How long has it been since he had a proper hug? When was the last time I hugged someone who wasn’t Liam?

I wish I could derail my train of thoughts, but there’s zero chance. If I don’t go over and talk to Cruz, all I’m going to do is spend the rest of the night staring up at the ceiling. For my own sanity, I have to go talk to him.

I grasp the glass of water way too tight as I walk into the living room. I drop down on the opposite side of the couch. My heart beats so hard that I can hear it revving in my ears. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he responds, but it’s automatic. It sounds a little bit forced. “Are you?”

I could say yes and leave it at that. Go back to my room and shut myself down. I could, but that’s not me. It’s never been me. If I can’t play myself false, then I’m definitely not going to fool Cruz. I might as well be honest. That’s what I came over here to do. To give us both some semblance of peace.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been more confused. I’m caught between seeing you as this lost, mostly unloved kid and I just want to give you a hug because it makes me feel all motherly, and then the other half of me is locked in the thirst trap of the present and everything that’s wrapped up in that.”

He huffs, but it’s not an unkind sound. “I shouldn’t have told you any of that. I’ve been stewing in my regret ever since.”

Ever since all of it, I think he means.

Would he have regretted the kiss if I hadn’t shut him down? Does he regret it, or does he feel bad about making me uncomfortable, or for wrecking the sort of harmony that had sprung up between us? I’m not a big believer in living life dishonestly. I can’t say that we can move on and just pretend like it never happened, but what’s it going to help having all this weird tension between us?

“Would it be worse acknowledging it and not doing anything about it, or… or not?” I whisper. Then, to fill the tense silence, I take a sip of water and continue. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. This for sure wasn’t on my life bingo card, but… but none of it was. It’s not… as bad as I thought it would be.”

“That’s high praise.”

A sigh of relief escapes me. If he can be sarcastic, then maybe he’s not hurting too badly. “It really is. You said that when you left the SEALs, you were just going to ride until you found the right place to end up.” He huffs in acknowledgement. “Maybe I was waiting too. To find the right person. The right time. Maybe I needed to gather up enough experience to recognize when it was right in front of me.”

“You’re not like other people.” He says that like it’s a secret that he needs to keep hidden, not the most obvious thing ever.

Despite all of this, it makes me smile. “Maybe the world would have far fewer problems if people tried to communicate with each other or were at least honest with themselves. If we all walk around so afraid of getting hurt, where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know.”

I swivel on the couch so that I’m facing Cruz. I tuck my leg under me and clutch tight to the glass of water like a lifeline. “You’re so steady and dependable. I know that you’d drop this if I asked you to, but what if I don’t want to?”

His face. My god, it’s always beautiful in its own rugged way, but seeing the light come on behind his eyes and illuminate the gray depths, hope blooming like the sun in the morning sky… it’s heart stopping. I suck in one breath and then another, but my lungs are still on fire. The tension in the room is so thick that I can’t breathe it in like regular oxygen.

“I don’t know that either,” Cruz says carefully, but his eyes never lose their spark.

“Do you want to try? We could be honest with Liam.” I pause and unfurl my fingers from the glass before I shatter it in my death grip. I’m scared of getting hurt, like everyone’s scared. I’m afraid of the unknown. I’m afraid of having something incredible and then losing it. But is being scared any reason to keep from living? Is it a good reason to hide yourself away and lock yourself up? I’ve never thought so, but then, I’ve never stood on a precipice like this. Now that I’m looking down at the great big fall, taking a leap is a lot harder than I ever imagined it could be.

“What would we say? If Liam found out that I kissed you and wanted to do more, he’d call me a horny motherfucker—and that would literally be true. He’d have every right to punch me in the face or kick me in the family jewels. And he’d be justified in doing it.”

“The family jewels?” I say, amused at his turn of phrase. I would have thought he’d say nuts or balls.

His lips twitch and then he bursts into a grin so full that a dimple appears on the left side of his face. It’s so dazzling that all I can do is blink and try not to get swept away.

“He wouldn’t punch you,” I say when I’ve got myself under control. “I was thinking that we should do a few dinners or at least a few dates, before we say anything. He’s got enough to worry about right now. I don’t want him to be distracted.”

“I’ll do whatever you want.”

“That’s quite a potent thing to say to someone. What if what I want is the toilets scrubbed until they’re gleaming, upstairs and downstairs?”

“I don’t mind scrubbing toilets.”

Isn’t that the truth? I’d rather scrub toilets than try and figure this out. Cleaning is methodical and rewarding. It’s not complicated.

“You’re very calm.” I don’t know what else I expected from a man who has proved that he’s nothing if not steadfast.

“So are you.”

“I don’t know about that. I might be freaking out on the inside a little bit. I think that maybe we can both be calm and stay calm if we won’t stress each other out. We’ll just… see.”