Grace for Drowning

My conversation with Joy had been weighing on my mind all day. The situation was more complicated than she realized, but the longer I thought about it, the more I decided she was right — I had to confront him. I had to understand why he was doing this.

"Is this what you come here each night to do? Joke about movies?"

His smile fell away and he let out a little sigh, like he'd been waiting for this. "Not exactly."

No going back now. "Well what is it then? Because I have to say, I'm super confused. The alley, that night outside the bar, and now this. You seem like a nice guy, but it's all a bit weird. Why are you so interested in me, Logan?"

"Like I said before, I want to help."

"No, that doesn't answer the question. I know what you're trying to do. I just don't understand why. Why me? We met properly, like, a few weeks ago. We barely know one another, yet here you are trying to ride in on your white horse to save me. It doesn't make any sense. The only thing I can think of is that it's some elaborate attempt to get in my pants."

A short laugh escaped his lips, but there was no mirth behind it. "I'm sorry I'm making you uncomfortable."

Not a denial, just "sorry." "That's not an answer either," I replied, feeling a tingle roll across my skin. He stared at me, those stunning eyes seeming to reach down inside me to squeeze the breath from my lungs. I swallowed hard and willed myself to think of Tom.

"You don't have anything to worry about," he said eventually. "I'm not hitting on you. Just trying to do a good thing."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded.

"Well, just in case, let me make it clear. I'm not interested. My last relationship..." My chest hitched, but I steeled myself. "I'm just not in a place where that is a possibility." He looked thoughtful, and I realized that once again I'd given away more than I'd intended.

"I understand," he said.

I wasn't entirely certain I believed him, but I'd put it out there and he'd given me an answer. What more could I do?

"Well, I'm glad we've cleared that up," I said. "But it still doesn't answer the initial question. If that's not it, why are you putting yourself out there for a virtual stranger?"

He exhaled slowly. "I honestly don't know. It just cuts me up seeing you hurt like this. I know that sounds stupid, but it's true. I felt that way the moment I met you. I know what it's like to have something eating away at you, that fucking grinding feeling in the pit of your stomach that never goes away. If I can do something to protect you from that, I feel like I should."

The way he said that, the tightness of his face, the tremble in his voice, the words he chose, I got the sense that maybe he really did understand. I found myself wondering what pain he'd been through. Was there a chance he really could help? Whatever his trauma, he seemed to have found a way to cope.

But those thoughts didn't last long. There wasn't anything he could say that could fix this. It was too big, too deep, and it would require me to share my shame, which was something I just wasn't willing to do.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Logan, but I don't need any help. I know you think I'm this damsel in distress, but I'm just going through a rough patch, that's all."

His mouth opened a fraction, but no words came out.

"I know I can't stop you," I continued, "but I'm asking; could you please just leave me alone? I can't deal with this right now."

It hurt to send him away. I really did enjoy his company, and I felt like if we could get past all the heroic bullshit we might be really good friends, but I wasn't sure it would end there. Despite what he'd claimed, there was something between us, something potent and crackling that flared inside me like wildfire. My hormones had a mind of their own around him. It was too dangerous.

He didn't speak for a long time. I thought perhaps he was preparing to stand his ground, but eventually he gave a curt nod. "If that's what you want."

"It is." I had to force the words out.

He nodded again, then dropped his cloth and walked toward the exit.

"If you need me, you know where to find me," he said, pausing at the door.

"Thanks."

When I was alone, I buried my face in my hands. It shouldn't have been so hard to ask him to leave. He was practically a stranger and he was intruding, stubbornly trying to bully his way into my business. He didn't know me or anything about what I'd been through. It was the right thing to do.

It was the right thing to do.

Chapter Eight