He huffed a laugh. “As far as you knew, it was deserved. And maybe it was. If I were more normal—”
“Don’t say that.” Normal was my least favorite word, and the last thing anyone needed to bemoreof.
He nodded. “Right. I mean, if I’d had a better handle on my emotions, I would have been capable of grieving and sending a simple text. I regret that very much.” Clearing his throat, his mouth turned up in the corners. “I appreciate you gave me forty-eight whole hours.”
I waved his appreciation away. “Two-years-ago-Bea was a starry-eyed little optimist. These days, men are blocked much quicker for far, far less.”
“I drove you to pessimism?”
“I’m not a pessimist—I’m a realist with a low tolerance for bullshit.” I sighed. “I’m very sorry you lost your sister, Tore. I can only imagine all the ways your life was flipped upside down. I don’t hold anything that happened after against you.”
All of him rose. His spine straightened, and his eyebrows lifted. Even his ears seemed to sit a little higher.
“Thank you. I didn’t expect that of you.” He moved around the counter, coming to stand in front of me, and took my hand in his.
For a heartbeat, I was back on my rock, staring up at the stars with him. Then he stroked his thumb across my knuckles, where I had a scar that hadn’t been there before. He paused over it, and I pulled my hand away, wrapping it around the stem of my glass. It was a stark reminder of how much life had happened between then and now.
“I’m not a monster. You went through hell. Of course I don’t blame you for reacting the way you did.” I took a sip to steady myself. “I’m glad we cleared the air.”
He lowered his chin. “Tonight was about clearing the air, yes, but not just that. I would like to pick up where we left off.”
My pulse thundered in my ears. I’d known he would ask that. He’d made his intentions known when we’d spoken at Nox. But hearing him say it in no uncertain terms panicked me.
I set my glass down.
“Tore…” I started then stopped. Struggling with words wasn’t a common occurrence for me, but this man had continued to scramble my brain all evening. Rejecting someone was never easy. Well, that wasn’t strictly true—sometimes it was a delight. But this felt nearly impossible.
Probably because I didn’t want to reject him. My reckless side was ready to dive headfirst into an affair with this gorgeous, interestingman. But the chances I’d end up devastated were too damn high for me to risk it.
I might’ve been my mother’s daughter, but I’d learned a lot from her about what not to do.
He waited, patient as ever, hopeful as I mulled over my words.
“I’m not the same girl who lay on the rock with you two years ago.”
His brow pulled tight. “I know that. I don’t expect you to be the same.”
“I don’t think you really do. Picking up where we left off isn’t an option. I’m not in that place anymore. My reckless streak has been whittled down. I’m far more careful than I once was. I haven’t even been back to the rock since that night…or gone stargazing. I don’t pursue things that feel good but aren’t safe anymore. That’s not me.”
If I hadn’t been watching him closely, I would have missed the ripple of tension through his shoulders. Otherwise, he remained stoic, implacable…only that slight movement giving him away to anything else.
“Then we’ll start fresh,” he offered, twisting his ring.
“I can’t pretend.”
“Neither can I.” He reached for my hand again, and silly me, I let him take it. “What happened here?”
I glanced down at the faint scar as he stroked it. It was small. No more than two inches long and only slightly raised, but Tore was all about the details.
“Nothing exciting. An incident with a knife when I first started assisting Daisy. I’m much better at slicing cheese these days.”
“There are a million things I don’t know about you, Bea—and I don’t just mean everything that’s happened in the last two years. I want all of it.”
Oh, if I could let myself believe that.
To be known that way…it was far too tempting for my own good.
“And I want to feel safe, Tore. I don’t. Not right now.”
