Page 204 of Hard Pass

“You heard me. I call bullshit. Something’s wrong.”

“Great. Awesome. So now we’re going to do this too?”

“Apparently.”

“Fantastic. Perfect timing.” I toss the dish towel in the sink with way more force than necessary. “Can’t wait to fight with you.”

His eyes narrow. “There she is. The woman who gets mean when she gets scared.”

“I’m not scared,” I sputter.

“Really?” He moves around the island so we’re in the same space. “Because you’ve baked enough food to cater a team brunch. Your hands are shaking. You haven’t looked me in the eye for longer than five seconds since I walked in.” He takes another step closer. “And I know you’re trying to make sure I don’t notice because you think that whatever happened to me today matters more than whatever happened to you.”

I grit my teeth. Damn him for seeing too much.

“I said, I’m fine.”

“Is it so fucking hard to need me?” he shouts, the question hitting with enough force to knock the breath out of my lungs. “I’m sick of hearing ‘I’m fine. It’s okay. It’s handled.’ It’s okay not to be.”

My spine stiffens. “Says the man who runs from everything.”

The second the words leave my mouth, I want them back. It’s a low blow that clearly isn’t true anymore considering where he just came from.

I can see the emotions shift over Cole’s expression. Anger then hurt before shifting to something more resolute.

“Finish the sentence, Dublin.”

“I don’t—”

“Finish the fucking sentence.” He grips the counter with one hand, his voice low. “Says the man who runs from every fucking thing except from you.”

I blink, his words hitting me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that—”

“And yet you tried to use something I confided in you to hurt me.”

“No. Cole. I didn’t mean it. Can we just start over? You had a rough day. I just want to be here for you.”

“And I want to be here for you. Don’t you get that?” His voice breaks and he steps closer, slow enough that I could stop him if I wanted to. I don’t. “Is it so fucking bad that I want you to need me? That I need you to, so I feel worthy of you?”

My breath shudders. “I do need you,” I whisper. “More than I even want to.”

His eyes close briefly like those words cost him something too.

“You’re dealing with so much. My God, you talked to your dad today. We should be talking about that. I should be holding you together, not making this about me.”

His eyes darken. “Dublin.”

“No. Don’t.” I laugh once. It’s broken and ugly. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not one more thing you have to fix.”

“You’re not a thing I have to fix.”

“Then what am I?”

“Mine.” Immediate. Zero hesitation.

Everything in me stills at the certainty in that lone syllable.

“You’re mine,” he repeats. “And I’m yours. That means I get to show up too.”