out the word in a way that isn’t comforting. Neither is the fact that his gaze is still fixed over my shoulder or that he’s refusing to look me in the eye.
“Very convincing,” I say dryly.
His lips twitch at the edges. “Okay. The truth then?”
“I prefer it. It tends to make communicating easier.”
“Right. So, I was dating this girl in Atlanta,” he says. “She was a lot like you, beautiful and sweet and…used to doing things a certain way. Before we got together, she’d dated the same guy for three years. I’d been exclusive with a few people before, but nothing serious and nothing that lasted more than a few months. Sarah Beth was my first real relationship.”
“What happened?” I ask, torn between being thrilled that Nick is finally opening up to me and a little offended that he’s already lumped me into the same category as this other girl.
I’m not some other girl. I’m me, and I like to be judged solely on my own behavior.
Nick shrugs. “It ended. She went back to the guy she’d been dating before, and I went on a three-week pub crawl through every shitty bar in Atlanta. One night, I came home so drunk that I tossed a toaster oven out the window onto a car, and my roommates kicked me out.” He bites his lip as he rakes a hand through his hair. “Once I sobered up, I felt like such an idiot. I tried to convince them I was ready to pull my head out of my ass, but…they’d already made up their minds. They didn’t want a guy who couldn’t keep his shit together in their place anymore.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry.” I reach out, taking his hand. “But it’s okay, you know. Heartache makes us do stupid things sometimes. That doesn’t make you an idiot.”
“No, it does.” Nick pulls his fingers away, propping both hands on his narrow hips. “I knew from the beginning that Sarah Beth and I weren’t going to work out long term. We were too different. I made the mistake of thinking I could fit into her world, or that she might come to appreciate mine…” He shakes his head. “But I couldn’t be myself, and she couldn’t be herself, and in the end, we were both miserable. I don’t want to go through that again.”
“Okay.” I blink. “But, just to state the obvious, I’m not Sarah Beth.”
“No, you’re worse,” he says, making me huff with indignation before he adds, “You’re prettier and smarter and funnier. Sarah Beth never made me laugh the way you do, or think about kissing her every five seconds, and I don’t…” He swallows. “I really don’t…”
“Don’t what?” I ask, my chest filling with hopeful butterflies. That part about thinking about kissing me every five seconds was nice. Really nice.
“I don’t want to fuck up my life again,” he says, finally meeting my gaze, the expression on his face making my hope butterflies really start to freak out, their little wings beating like crazy. “I don’t want to fall hard for someone only to crash and burn all over again.”
“You think you could fall hard for me?” I ask, a little giddy and a little scared and afraid to blink for fear that the tender, tormented look in his eyes will disappear.
“No doubt in my mind,” he says his voice husky, making my skin tingle all over. “But what happens when you realize you want more than a guy like me? More than I can give you? When I’m not enough?”
“What?” I let out a shaky laugh. “Are you serious?”
He scowls, making it clear he is serious—dead serious.
“I mean, that’s just silly,” I hurry to add. “You’re gorgeous and smart and so talented, and I have so much fun with you.” I tip my head to one side and amend, “When you’re not treating me like a child or trying to push me away.”
“See, I’m an asshole.”
I huff. “You are not. And why on earth would you think you might not be enough for me? For these past few weeks, I’ve assumed you thought I wasn’t enough for you.”
Nick’s forehead furrows. “Are you crazy? You’re…perfect.”
“I’m not, at all. And I’m not crazy, either,” I say, a smile curving my lips. “At least not any crazier than you are. Maybe being a little crazy is something we have in common.”
Nick pulls in a slow breath, but I can tell he isn’t sold. “I haven’t been to church since I was eighteen, Mel.