Why I ran?
Simple. I panicked. I was this close to blurting out the whole truth—about why I’d broken up with him and called him names four years ago, making him believe I never wanted to see him again. About how I felt then and how I feel now about him, how much I need him.
And about Jax.
I panicked because I still have no way of guessing how Tyler will react. A boy whose father was a monster. How will he feel when he finds out he’s a father himself? How will he feel about me for keeping this a secret until now?
Besides, I’m not the carefree girl he used to know. I’m a mother, and I have responsibilities, debts and expenses and a little boy I need to spend time with.
I know I’m only putting off the inevitable. I can’t hide Jax forever, especially not from Tyler. Rationally, I know it’s the sooner the better. The sooner I know Tyler’s reaction to the news, the easier it will be for me
to move on. The more time passes, the more attached I become to Tyler and the harder it is to accept whatever his decision will be.
Problem is, I’m so in love with him—have been from the start—that I don’t think there’s any easy way out of this. He’ll shatter my heart.
Which is why I’m procrastinating and keeping away, struggling not to think of him every minute of the day.
Obviously, I fail. I keep seeing his beautiful face, the hard line of his jaw, the soft curve of his mouth, his strong body... My thoughts are wrapped around him like cling wrap.
I find myself doodling during classes, tripping over things, forgetting my student’s Spanish subjunctive test at home and buying full fat milk instead of skim. Tyler used to love pancakes, and I pick up a box of mixture and syrup, before I remember I’m avoiding him. He used to like Mexican food, so I eye the avocados and tortillas.
God. I pay and leave for home as quickly as I can without running full out. Oh, yeah, Erin, you’re not thinking of him at all. Great job. Keep it up.
It doesn’t help that I’m concerned. Is he okay? Did he have another attack? Did he sleep well? Is he eating?
By the time I reach home in the evening, I’m a nervous wreck. Will he call me if he doesn’t feel well? After I ran away like that, I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.
Crap.
I’d ask Zane for advice, but he still hasn’t come back to town and doesn’t answer my phone calls. So I call the only other person I think might know how Tyler is doing.
Rafe.
He answers on the third ring. I can hear music in the background. “Hey, Erin. How is it going?”
I tug on the hem of my sweater. “Just checking on you.”
“On me? Really?” I can hear a grin in his voice. “Are you sure it’s not this dark-haired guy who mans the front desk you want?”
Heat rises to my face. “Is he okay?”
Rafe chuckles. “Well, I haven’t been at Damage today and didn’t see him, but he seemed okay yesterday.”
I pace around my kitchen, relieved. “Great, thanks, Rafe.”
“Is there a reason you’re calling me to ask and not him? I have his phone number, if you want.”
Crap. “No, thanks, I’m good.”
“All right.” A pause. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, except for the fact that you can’t seem to keep your eyes or your hands off each other. The night he had the panic attack, he couldn’t breathe until he knew you were there. You dropped everything and ran to his side, stayed the night with him. And all this despite whatever mess in the past and the fact he was away for years. That’s something special.”
“What do you know about it?” I ask and it comes out so bitter it hurts.
“Oh, come on. I’m not Zane, okay? Not gonna go all philosophical and Zen on you. I’m a cynic. But I know special when I see it, that’s all I’m saying.” He chuckles, and I frown, wondering if he’s high.
“I just... need time to think.”
“His panic attack scared you, is that it? Or the fact he was an addict? He seems to think as much.”