Page 39 of Israel

Chapter 16

Ashley stared at Israel, waiting to hear what he had to say. Waiting to hear him make excuses and justify himself. Waiting for him to tell her she didn’t understand, that she was wrong, he’d done it for her own good.

The silence stretched out. “I don’t have one,” he said finally. “I fucked up. Worse than I realized. I’m sorry.”

She could see the pain in his worried gray eyes.

“Please don’t make me go,” he whispered.

That heartfelt plea tore her apart inside. Dammit. She should make him go. She shouldn’t forgive him and she shouldn’t care what she saw in those eyes, because it was going to get both of them in such bad trouble.

She shouldn’t care that he’d taken her to a stupid jackalope museum and made her laugh harder than she had in years. Or that he’d stood with her in front of a painting of true love and opened his heart to her.

He was a dangerous man. But she couldn’t make herself tell him to leave.

“You knew you were doing the wrong thing,” she said. “Didn’t you.”

He nodded.

She pressed her lips together. “Then why did you do it?”

“Because—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just going to sound like an excuse.”

“It matters to me,” she said. “And you owe me that.”

He sighed, rubbing his hand over his hair the way he did when he was frustrated, or didn’t know how to express himself.

“I’m worried about you,” he said. “You work too hard and you don’t rest enough. You have dark circles under your eyes, and you’re losing weight, and you’re—brittle, like you’re about to crack, like if you don’t keep doing all this stuff you’re going to just—I don’t know. Fly apart in all directions.”

She sat down abruptly on the bed. She didn’t know he’d seen all that. She did love her work and she did enjoy being able to make her own decisions, but she also felt driven by the fear of failure, by everything catching up to her and careening out of control.

“It would be different if you were happy,” he said. “And you are happy onstage. But the rest of the time you’re not, and I just—” he sighed. “I don’t know what to do for you, and you won’t tell me what you need or admit how exhausted you are, or let anyone take any of the burden off your shoulders. I didn’t know what else to do. I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

Ashley stared at him. She’d never had any man do that before. Just say he was wrong and apologize. She didn’t know how to respond.

She said, “And this wasn’t at all about you trying to get me to spend more time with you. And maybe get Mr. Happy into play?”

“Honestly?” he asked.

“Honest would be good.”

“Yeah, it was. I loved spending time with you that night we watched the movie together, and I haven’t been alone with you since. I was jealous of everyone else who gets to be with you.” He paused. “Just being with you today was awesome. Although, if you wanted Mr. Happy to be involved, I wouldn’t say no to that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you wouldn’t. You’re a guy.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But it’s more than that.” He walked slowly towards her, that compelling intensity in his eyes. “I know I went about this all wrong, but I’m trying to tell you I care about you and I want to be with you.”

There it was. They’d been dancing around this since the first moment they met, and now he was laying it out there, hoping for her to respond.

She shouldn’t do it. She knew she shouldn’t, because she had feelings for him already, and he was telling her he had feelings for her, and eventually that would lead to disaster. There were just too many things against them, too many things she couldn’t tell him.

“I’ll just break your heart,” she said.

He took a step closer. “But what if you don’t?”

“Or you’ll break mine.”

“But what if I don’t?”