She chewed her lower lip, still tasting the sweet spice of cinnamon. “I know.”
“Nothing’s happening, Maggie. We had a nice meal and shared a nice night.”
That wasn’t true. Something else was happening. The worst part was, on some level she wanted something to happen.
“Are you mad at me?”
She frowned at him. “Why would I be mad?”
He shrugged. “You seem upset.”
“I’m … confused.”
When she was with Ryan, she was happy. He made her laugh and he kept her mind off the past. But that was the problem. She didn’t want to forget about the past. It anchored her to reality and kept her safe. Yet, with Ryan she felt safe in a different way.
Time flew when they were together, because he was fun. But whenever she realized she forgot to think of Nash, the guilt would kick her ass. Maybe it was progress not to think of him so much. That was the goal, right? Progress?
First, she’d thought of him every minute, then every few minutes, then sometimes every hour, and eventually she might reach a point where she only thought of him a few times a day. She couldn’t imagine. Especially when forgetting to think of him for one meal made her feel so awful.
She lowered her coffee mug and folded her hands in her lap, unable to meet his stare. “I have this fear that you’ll erase him.”
“What?”
Her brow pinched with regret. “The more time we spend together, the less I think of him.”
“Maggie, you can’t put that on me.”
“I know. But it’s what’s happening. I like this. But I feel like I’m losing pieces of myself the more we do this.”
And each night when Ryan left her, her mind worked double-time, entrenching her with memories of Nash. She drowned in guilt for forgetting to be sad for an hour, which only further proved she was crazy.
His brow creased and he put down his spoon. “We’ve never done this before. I’m not even sure I know what this is.”
“This. Us. I know you like me.”
“I could argue the same.”
Her gaze shot to his, accusation burning her eyes, but she couldn’t deny his words.
“You’re not losing anything, Maggie.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand in a tight grip. “I know he was your first love and your husband and he’ll always own a part of your heart. I’m not trying to take that away from you or him. I just like to be near you.” His grip loosened and he laced his fingers with hers. Her shoulders buckled as fresh guilt whooshed in. “Tonight was harmless. We had a delicious meal and we laughed and neither of us had to spend it alone. Don’t turn it into something ugly because of misplaced guilt. We aren’t erasing anything.”
She shut her eyes, envisioning Nash’s brown eyes, but they quickly wavered with blue. She tried to remember the shape of his ears and the angle of his jaw, but Ryan’s beard was all her mind wanted to see.
She was falling for him. What would happen when they argued about something stupid, or when he wanted something she couldn’t give? He’d pull away and she’d be alone again. She was starting to remember how nice having someone’s company could be, starting to want things she shouldn’t want.
“You’ll get tired of me.”
He scowled. “You don’t know that.”
“Friendship’s easier. Couples argue. And then they break up.”
“We aren’t even going out yet. One step at a time, Maggie.”
“There are too many reasons not to—”
“Excuses. Not reasons.” He wrapped her imprisoned hand in both of his. “And for every excuse you throw at me, I can give you two reasons why we should try. But that’s not what tonight was. Tonight was just two friends keeping each other company. Don’t feel bad because you enjoyed it.”
She tried to shove back the blame, and a smile trembled to her lips. “It was nice.” Until she ruined it with more talk about her inadequacies.
“We make each other laugh. We have fun together. There’s something between us, whether we acknowledge it or not. We have chemistry. We like the same football team, drink the same beer, and I’m teaching you what decent whiskey tastes like instead of that piss you’re used to. I can even overlook the fact that your last name’s O’Malley because that’s what friends do.”
She didn’t know how to respond but loved all those commonalities they shared too. “You’re a real pain in my ass.”
“You’re not the first person to say that.”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Rather than pull her hand away, she stopped trying to move it at all. Her fingers fit perfectly between his. It was … comforting.
“Okay.”
His head tipped with confusion. “Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay, I’ll … keep an open mind. But you have to be patient with me.”