to my house.”
Her shoulders sag in relief. “Okay.”
“Okay.” I head toward her, needing to touch her—needing reassurance that she’s real and I’m real and this is happening.
Before I get there, she holds out a hand.
“I . . . I need to know,” she says. “What am I to you?”
“What does that mean?”
I force a swallow down the narrow tube of my throat. My heart pounds in my chest, the vein in my neck throbbing as I shift under her pointed gaze.
“It means just what I’m asking,” she says.
I stop in my tracks. “We don’t have to put a label on it, Haley.”
She runs a hand down her face. “No. We don’t. You don’t have to call me your girlfriend or say we’re dating. But I need to know what I mean to you.”
“I don’t understand.”
She drops her hand. There’s a chill to her eyes as she takes me in. “I’m going to be honest with you, Trevor.”
She pauses as she searches for words. Every second she doesn’t speak feels like a lifetime as I try to come to terms with the words I think she’s going to say.
I will her not to. I silently plead with her to not go where I think she’s going, to just let this thing be whatever it is.
I can’t do this. I can’t ruin her like she’s going to make me do.
“Haley—”
“I’m falling in love with you.”
She blurts the words before I can object. My blood turns to ice.
“No, Haley.”
She blinks back tears. “I know I signed the napkin,” she says, laughing as she chokes back a sob. “And I know I promised you that I understand you just needed me to help you fill a spot of time in your life—”
“Haley, stop. That’s not true.”
My heart twists in my chest so hard I think it might stop beating. I want to hold her, caress her, kiss away all her tears, but I can’t do that. It’ll only make it worse.
“It’s not?” she asks. “I know you like me. I see it in your eyes and feel it in the way you touch me. But if you won’t admit that, I need to know.”
“I do like you, Haley. So much. But . . . you don’t love me.”
“How do you know?” Tears drip down her cheeks as she watches me try to keep it together. “How do you know what my love feels like when you won’t accept it? Heck, you won’t even entertain the idea of it?”
She’s right. I won’t. Even if I did, I’m not sure it would change anything.
A girl like her doesn’t love a guy like me. Not really. She just thinks she does because she’s a glutton for punishment.
“You fall in love when you’re ready,” I say. “Not when you’re lonely.”
“You think that’s it? You think I think I’m in love with you because I don’t want to be alone?” Her brows lift as she processes this. “How dare you say that to me?”
“It’s true. You are so much better than me,” I tell her, fighting back a lump in my throat. “You have this huge heart, this dry wit that makes me insane, and a laugh that I’ll always remember. I can’t give you that.”
“You won’t try.”
I shake my head. “I’m not there. Maybe someday I’ll figure it out. Maybe someday I’ll be like my dad and fall madly in love. But right now, I’m not there.”
“You let me fall for you.”
Guilt settles in my soul. It burrows nice and deep, rooting its way into my psyche.
I think back on the moments I didn’t leave her alone. The night we made out like high school kids. The day I couldn’t help myself and not visit her at the flower shop. They were choices I made well after we broke our contract, and I kept pressing. I couldn’t help it. Because I’m a fucking moron.
“You know how you say you fall for the wrong guy?” I ask.
She nods.
“We fall for the people we think we deserve. You need to figure out what it is about you that makes you think you need someone like me.”
Her eyes go wide, the wind knocked out of her. “Fuck you.” She shuffles her feet. “You want a little truth, Trevor?”
I don’t, but I nod, anyway.
“You know how you say women cling to you and won’t go away?” she asks.
I nod again.
“It’s you that does that to them. You break them down until they think it’s safe, and then you say you’ve had enough