“Yeah, this is all kinds of abnormal.”
“Start with that. What’s abnormal, being in bed together?” She cocked her head and smoothed the sheets over them. “Are you about to tell me your reputation with women is vastly inflated? Because I won’t believe you. The things you do to me can only be the result of years of careful study.”
“I’ve had a lot of sex, Elise. Make no mistake,” he said without apology. “But it wasn’t anything like this. What’s different is you. I can’t explain it. It feels...bigger. Stronger. I don’t know what to do with it.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Really? It’s not like this with other women?”
“Not even close. I didn’t know it could be different.”
If he had, he would have hunted down Elise Arundel about a decade ago. Maybe if he had, before he’d become so irrevocably damaged, things might have worked out between them.
He could have actually been the man she needed instead of merely wanting to be.
Wanting wasn’t good enough. She deserved someone unbroken and he needed to give her space to find that guy.
But it didn’t have to be now. He could wait a few days, or maybe longer.
“But I’m just me.” Bewilderment crept over her face. “I’m not doing anything special.”
“You don’t have to do anything special. It just is. You don’t feel it, too?”
Slowly, she nodded and a sense of relief burst through his gut. Relief that this wasn’t all one-sided. Guilt because it might already be too late to get out without hurting her.
“I feel it. It scares me and I don’t know why.” She gripped his hand. “It’s not supposed to be like this, all mixed up, and like I can’t breathe if you’re gone. Like I can’t breathe when you’re here.”
Exactly. That’s how he’d felt all week as he’d talked to the couples Elise had matched and then drove around aimlessly, out of sorts, with no clue how to absolve the riot of stuff seething under his skin. Elise was his affliction. And his deliverance.
Maybe she was the answer, the only woman in existence who could fix him. If he wasn’t broken anymore, maybe he could find a way to be with Elise forever. Maybe he could have her, without pushing her away. But only if he could finally let her behind his curtain.
“I have to tell you something,” he said before he lost his nerve. “Your mother made you feel bad about your weight. Well, I understand how mothers can shape your entire outlook on life. Because mine left. When I was seven.”
Tears pricked at his eyelids. He’d never spoken of his mother’s abandonment and somehow, saying it aloud made it An Issue.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Elise pressed her lips to his temple and just held him without another word. The odd, bright happiness she evoked filled him.
“It’s stupid to still let it affect me. I know that,” he muttered and let his muscles relax. He wouldn’t flee into the night and not talk about this.
Elise, of all people, understood the twisted, sometimes warped pathways of his mind, often when he didn’t get it himself. He could trust her.
“Dax.” She gave him time to collect himself and that small act meant a lot to him. “If you don’t want to let it affect you, then stop.”
“Oh, sure. I’ll wave my magic wand and everything will be fine. Better yet, why don’t you wave yours?” he said magnanimously. She didn’t laugh.
Instead, she leaned forward and pierced him with a somber gaze. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do. By matching you with your soul mate, so you could be happy with someone. I want that for you.”
“What if I said I want that too?”
Twelve
She froze, confusion flitting through her expression. “You do?”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
She blinked and swallowed several times in a row before speaking. “You mean commitment, emotions, forever?”
Hope shone in her eyes.
For a brief moment, he felt an answering tug of hope in his heart. Forever sounded amazing.
And then reality took over and squelched everything good inside. These feelings would change—or fade—and he’d prove he was just like his mother by walking out the door.
He was wrong for Elise. She had all these visions of true love he could never measure up to. Being with her made him want things he couldn’t have, and it wasn’t her job to fix him.