Daniels' eyebrows rise. "Someone? As in, someone specific? As in, you're actually interested in more than a one-night stand?"
"Don't look so shocked." I smirk at him. "But yeah. Someone specific."
"Do I know her?"
"I'd rather not say. It's... complicated."
Daniels doesn't push. Instead, he asks, "So what's the problem? She’s not interested?"
"No, she's interested. We've been..." I search for the right word. "Close. But now she's avoiding me."
"What did you do?"
I shoot him an irritated look. "Why do you assume I did something?"
"Because I know you." His tone is matter-of-fact, not judgmental. "And because you look like someone kicked your dog, which means you feel guilty about something."
The accuracy of the assessment stings. I sigh, relenting. "I said some things I shouldn't have. Accused her of... using me, basically. When really I was just scared of how I felt."
"Ah." Daniels nods slowly. "And how do you feel?"
"Like I can't get her out of my head," I say, looking away. "Like she sees parts of me no one else does. Like when I'm with her, I'm actually the person I want to be, not the person everyone expects me to be."
"Sounds serious."
"Maybe." I stare at my empty glass. "Doesn't matter now. I fucked it up, like I always do. Picked a fight when what I really wanted was to be closer to her."
Daniels is quiet for a moment, lost in contemplation. Then he says, "You know, you can't fight your way out of real feelings, Barnesy."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means your whole life, you've dealt with things by fighting—literally or figuratively. Someone threatens you? Throw a punch. Someone gets too close? Push them away with words. But real feelings don't work like that. They don't go away just because you get angry or defensive."
The words hit with unexpected force.
"So what am I supposed to do?"
"Try apologizing. Sincerely. Without excuses." Daniels finishes his beer. "And maybe stop trying to fight whatever it is you're feeling for her. It sounds like it might be worth hanging onto."
I take this in, turning it over in my mind. It sounds so simple when Daniels says it. But with Elena, nothing is simple. Not the beginning, not the present, and certainly not the future—if there even is one.
Still, the idea takes root. Stop fighting it. Stop pushing her away because I’m scared of how much she means to me. Stop sabotaging something good because I don't believe I deserve it.
"I'll think about it," I finally say.
Daniels claps me on the shoulder as he stands. "That's all anyone can ask." He checks his watch. "I've got to get home. You going to be okay?"
I nod. "Yeah. I'm good."
As Daniels walks away, I think about how I need to talk to Elena. Not to fight, not to push, but to tell her the truth. All of it.
Even if it means risking everything.
Chapter 13
Nate
Icheck my watch for the fifth time in as many minutes, standing outside Elena's office door like a rookie before his first game. It's been a week since our last session, since I pushed too hard and she walked out. Since I showed up at her hotel room door and she refused to answer.
