why did she have to smile at him like that, like she was daring him to prove Carter wrong? Now he was going to have fess up, and he wasn’t really ready to do that.
“Okay,” he sighed. “Truth?”
“It’s my preferred method, yeah.”
Letting go of her hand took some effort, but he finally managed it, then slowly made his way over to the nearest park bench and gripped the back of it for support. He was going to have to look at her when he said this, and if she so much as smiled at him, he was going to need something to stop him from buckling right there on the walkway.
“Carter’s right,” he finally said. “This whole thing’s making me crazy. I hate that I haven’t caught this prick. I hate that he follows you, that he takes pictures of you, that he’s been in your…”
Dropping his chin, Brett inhaled long and deep before forcing himself to continue.
“I hate that he’s done this to you before and nothing was ever done about it. I hate that I’ve never found the guy who hit you last year. I hate that you don’t trust anyone, and I really hate that you don’t trust me. I hate that I’m going to leave and that I can’t be here to protect you, and I hate that I know you don’t need me to stay here and protect you.”
He had to look away for a second to work up his nerve.
“And more than anything else, I really, really hate that I walked out of your house last week without kissing you.”
Spent, he stumbled around the bench and almost fell on his face before he managed to catch his balance and sit down, bent over a little with his elbows on his knees, his hands folded in front.
A second later, she slipped down beside him, but she sat up straight with her hands tucked under her thighs, her crossed feet swinging free just above the grass.
“That’s a whole lot of hate,” she said slowly. “D’you want to know what I hate?”
Chewing his lip, he tipped his head in scarcely a nod.
“I hate that I’m the cause of all that’s going on in there.” She slid her fingers up the back of his head and rested them on top. He didn’t mean to lean into her touch, but God, he loved it when she did that. “And I know I can’t help with all of it, but let me clear up a few things for you.”
He turned just enough that he could see her from the corner of his eye.
“If I didn’t trust you, I never would have let you into my room back there. And you can bet your ass I wouldn’t be sitting out here right now looking the way I do. You’re the only one who understands that about me, and you’re the only one I need to understand it. I feel safe with you—like I can let my guard down without feeling like less of a person for it—and that’s something I never thought I’d ever get back.”
She pulled her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around them.
“I really hate that you’re leaving, and it’s got nothing to do with the fact that Kurt’s still out there. It’s because I can’t stand the thought of you leaving.” She sighed slowly. “But mostly, I really, really, really hate that you walked out of my house without kissing me. That’s one more ‘really’ than you, in case you’re keeping score.”
He gave up trying to smile at her when he realized she wasn’t trying, either.
“I know why you left,” she said. “Your priority is keeping me safe, and you won’t do anything that might compromise that.”
“I can’t, Ell. If he walks because I can’t keep it zipped…” Cursing over a harsh chuckle, Brett sat back. “It’s a good thing we didn’t find him that night, because I would’ve ripped his fuckin’ head off for making me leave you like that.”
“It’s okay,” she said, dashing the back of her hand across her cheek and forcing the worst smile he’d ever seen. “Really, it is.”
“The fuck it is,” he growled. “None of this is okay.”
“But somehow it has to be. I mean, let’s face it, Ponch: this thing between you and me wasn’t ever really supposed to happen. It was, like, a happy little accident.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, then curled up next to him when he wrapped his arm around her