“You’re going back?” My mouth dries.
“Shit. I didn’t mean to say it like that,” he mumbles.
“Oliver.”
His eyes widen. I think this is the first time I’ve ever used it. “Are you going back to reshoot?”
He shrugs. “I-I don’t know.”
My gut aches. “Do you want to?” I ask, trying to hold on to my cool exterior. This has to be his decision. Maybe it’s part of his personal healing process. Still, I can’t help but feel it’s tempting fate. I bite my tongue until I taste something metallic as he glances down on the floor.
“I feel like I have to.”
“Why?” I ask as the voice inside of me screams for me to beg him not to go.
“So I can stop being a coward. What does that say to me and everyone else if I’m too scared to go back and handle my business, Quinn?”
“That you’re human,” I reply, stunned by the bitterness in his voice.
“No, that I’m weak, and no longer the man I once was.”
“You cannot believe that.” Crossing my arms, I shake my head.
“Why? It’s what everyone else is thinking, isn’t it? I mean, why else would they keep it from me? How can I do my job when they no longer trust me?”
“You think this is about trust?”
He looks up, and his eyes flash. They’re a stormy grayish blue I’ve never seen before. “Yes.”
“No. This is about love and respect. They don’t want to agitate a fresh wound. It’s only been a couple of months, babe.”
He grits his teeth and shakes his head. His jaw ticks and his hands ball into fists. The frustration that rolls off him makes the air heavy.
“You’re too hard on yourself.” I step into him, ignoring his anger, and cup his face. “You went back to work a month after being shot. You’re juggling Rolly, a busy schedule, and PT. Yes, you have some setbacks every now and then. We both do, and it’s completely normal. Please don’t tear yourself up over this.”
“I wish I could see the world through rose-colored glasses.”
“Believe me, I don’t. I’m not going to sit here and allow you to berate yourself when it’s so undeserved. My boyfriend is smart, sexy, kind, and strong as hell.”
His lips curve upward, and he bestows me with that smile that makes my knees turn to jelly.
“Boyfriend?”
I nod. “See, I would never date a coward, so clearly whoever you’re talking about is now Oliver Hemnway.”
He pulls me to him and tickles my neck with the scruff on his face as I giggle, and the dark cloud hanging over him passes.
“You’re too good to me. Thank you for that. I was stuck on a loop. I’m not sure what I want to do. They don’t necessarily need me on site. I can assist remotely.”
I just labeled us. I can speak up now. I rub the soft material of his button-up flannel between my thumb and pointer finger. “Please, don’t.”
“What’s that, sassy?”
Anyone else would be murdered for calling me that. It sounds different coming from him, like a compliment. “I don’t want you to.”
His lids lower and fire flickers in the depths of his ir
ises. “You worried about me?”