She slid it on his plate and built a third for herself. When she sat down at the table, she offered him a smile. “I find that everything seems worse on an empty stomach. Feeling any better?”
“Actually, yeah. A little. Thanks.”
She was halfway through her sandwich when he reached over and took her hand. “I’m glad you showed up. I didn’t really know what I was going to do with myself tonight.”
“I figured you’d either go home and bust open that heavy bag, or end up at Jake’s staring at the bottom of a glass. I didn’t want either of those to happen.”
“You’re probably not far off.” His eyes took on a faraway look.
“Are you really okay?” she asked, searching his face. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He turned his head and looked out the window. “I don’t know.”
“Does it hurt too much? I mean, I’m sure it brought back memories of what happened with Helen, and—”
His head snapped back and he pinned her with a sharp gaze. “I thought you didn’t want to get involved. Emotions are messy, remember?”
She swallowed thickly. He was right. And she shouldn’t have brought up Helen’s name. It was clearly such a source of pain for him. She should have eased into it more. But he’d seemed more relaxed. More on an even keel.
A little voice in her head reminded her that instability could be like that. Fine one moment and angry and sad the next. But that wasn’t Matt, she argued back. It was different with him.
Wasn’t it?
“I was afraid,” she replied in a small voice.
“Afraid of what? That I’d expect you to fix me every time I was broken? News flash, Lindsay. I’m already broken.”
Oh, there was so much pain in his voice underlying the bitterness. There was also acknowledgment.
“I’m afraid of everything you make me feel.” She eyeballed his empty glass and considered fixing her own drink simply for fortification but then dismissed the idea. If they were going to deal with this they were going to do it without crutches or vices and with clear heads. Matt had already finished his and hadn’t asked for another. That was probably a good thing.
“Feel?” He frowned. “I get why you walked away, I really do. It’s a lot to ask of someone. Hell, I know I’m messed up. Which is why it’s so confusing that you showed up the other night with pizza and then again today. You don’t want any part of this, remember?”
She twisted her fingers together. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I said, and if I had a choice I’d avoid all sort of messy baggage altogether. But I don’t have a choice, Matt. I’m in now.”
“What do you mean, you’re in?”
Her pulse beat a nervous tattoo as she took a breath. “I mean I care about you. That’s not something I can just turn off with a switch or pretend doesn’t exist.”
There was a long silence as their gazes held. Finally, Lindsay said the words she knew he needed to hear. “I realized there’s a very big difference between the way my father is and you. He has his demons and one of them is clinical depression. He didn’t need me to do all the right things for his life to be better. He needed help. And part of the reason I don’t let myself get too emotionally involved, why I keep things simple and easy, is because I’m scared to death that I’ll be like my parents. Both of them suffered from depression. I don’t want to end up like that…”
“And you think I’ll bring you down?”
“No. Well, maybe. The thing is, by avoiding relationships I thought I was maybe manipulating the results, you know? But that’s not healthy either. You have problems, Matt. You have nightmares and regrets and probably some anger going on and you’re not an easy man to love. But we don’t always have a choice. When I heard about Miranda it seemed like all my concerns just faded away and didn’t matter anymore. I was just worried about you. I wanted to help you somehow and suddenly my need to distance myself didn’t matter anymore. You mattered more.”
He took a step forward, his eyes searching hers. “You said love.”
She faltered. “I did?”
He nodded. “You said that I’m not an easy man to love.”
She g
ulped, a cold wave of nervousness and fear washing over her. This was such unchartered territory. She’d never wanted this. Hadn’t gone looking for it and certainly knew it was crazy after such a short time together. But there it was nonetheless, sitting like a hard lump in the center of her chest. Easily the hardest thing she’d ever done because caring meant opening herself up to someone else and allowing the possibility of them hurting her in the end.
“Matt,” she backpedalled, “I…” But she didn’t know what to say. I love you felt so premature even if that was what was in her heart. And yet…the connection had been there from the beginning. From the first night he’d walked her home and kissed her at the door, leaving her wanting more.
“So you weren’t just amusing yourself with me? It wasn’t all about the sex?” He slid his chair closer, erasing the space between them, fencing her in and, yes, seducing her in the process because having him so near made the memory of their bodies pressed together oh-so prescient.