“I’m surprised you’re not packing your shit and leaving.”
The frank cuss word out of her mouth shocked him. Every second he spent with her, he felt like another layer of the façade she wore slipped away. “I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“You’re about the only one.” She let out a short laugh that sounded like a honk. “Everyone in my family thinks that I’ve lost it.”
“Because you’re upset over a breakup?” That made no sense. Heartbreak was one of those things that everyone, across cultures, time, and all that shit, experienced. Her family should be understanding.
“I’m not just upset over a breakup. I’m upset over my whole life. Nothing seems right anymore. Nothing fits.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” She threw up her hands. “I think I’m broken.”
He walked up the stairs until he was taller than her again. She didn’t step back; she looked up at him with wide eyes, filled with unshed tears. “You came here.”
“Because my family didn’t know what to do with me. Because I needed a place to hide.”
Something in him didn’t want to let her hide. He wanted to bring her out into the light again. Something about the way she was afraid of the world, someone making her afraid of the world was...tragic. He might not want anything to do with a woman who would cause him nothing but grief, but he couldn’t deny his urge to prevent the sad woman standing in front of him from becoming a ghost.
He lifted his hand slowly, so she could move away from him if she wanted to. When she didn’t, he trailed his index finger along her cheek, connecting her freckles. “You’re still here. You’re young.” He had to have at least a decade on her. She was way too young for him if he was being honest. “Don’t let some shit-for-brains asshole ruin your life.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough to know that any guy who thinks you’re too much for him doesn’t deserve you.”
“Now you’re just full of shit.” She shook her head, one of her red strands falling into her face. He brushed it out of the way, noting that the tears in her eyes had been replaced by irritation.
“I don’t lie.” It was one of the few hard-and-fast policies he applied to himself. He might omit the truth if the truth could get someone killed, but he never lied. Not after he saw what lies could do.
He pressed his thumb into the softness of her cheek, and her mouth popped open. He wanted to suck on her pink bottom lip, but he wasn’t sure how she’d react. Her breath was fast and her face was pink, but she’d had a big day. He couldn’t be certain that it was what she wanted.
He couldn’t give her what she needed anyway.
“Go get some rest.” He dropped his hand and took a step down the flight of stairs.
“I still haven’t had coffee.”
He turned from her and headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll make some. I know where Lola has a secret stash.” Coffee he could do. Emotional triage, he couldn’t.
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