Harlow’s vulnerable expression darkened. She didn’t want to talk about ugly stuff, but I’d shared and needed her to do the same. Taking a mask off was something I only did with my parents. No one else saw the real me, but I’d torn one off for Harlow.
“I thought I was tough,” she said, poking at her sweet and sour pork. “When my dad died, I stayed strong for my mom and siblings. When mom got hooked on drugs to deal with how much she missed dad, I stayed strong for my brother and sister. When we ended up with Aunt Ashley and Playboy, I acted like I had everything under control. Then Playboy killed my family and I had no one to be strong for anymore. I was broken and scared of everything for a long time. Eventually, I played the strong chick again to help Winnie feel safe. Now, she’s married and strong on her own.”
“You’re strong for yourself now.”
Harlow gave me a weak smile. “I don’t know that I evolved enough when things got tough,” she muttered then sighed. “Maybe I’m still faking it like when I was a kid.”
Leaning back in my chair, I studied Harlow’s lost expression. She wasn’t wrong about faking it, but I refused to pile on when she was already feeling down.
“After the food settles, let’s work out.”
“Okay,” she mumbled, eating her rice.
“If you work out hard enough, you can’t think of anything except the aches in your body and how tired you feel. All you’ll want to do is sleep. Sometimes when my brain clings to the past, I’ll work out until I can barely stand.”
“That’ll teach you.”
Grinning, I ran a finger over her hand resting on the table. “If faking is your only option, I’ll help you sell it.”
Harlow held my gaze and forced a smile. She looked so fragile. What kind of monster was I to dump my secrets and demons into her already troubled life? An honorable man would walk away, but I had gotten good at being bad and I wasn’t going anywhere.
Chapter Twenty One ~ Harlow
Settling my sore body into the hot water, I refused to care about Saint shirtless and wet before me. I reminded myself I’d seen plenty of guys in the same state of undress. Hell, Dylan ran around shirtless last weekend and I hadn’t given a crap. My feelings for Saint weren’t any different.
I was full of crap. Saint was different in a million ways. I felt only him when he stood in a crowd. His voice echoed in my head. The night before, I dozed off replaying our time together. Saint was all I thought about and he was sitting across from me in a hot tub - wet, shirtless, and sexy as sin.
We sat for an unknown amount of time before I realized I was staring at him. After blinking a few times, I realized he was staring at me too. His skin looked so warm that I struggled against the urge to go to him. A hot panic flushing across my chest, I ordered my ass to remain seated. I mentally yelled at myself to stop staring at him.
Before I regained control, Saint smirked. “Fear controls your every breath.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Are you lying to me or yourself?”
My fingers tingled with the need to touch him. I was desperate to know what his skin felt like. A taste of his lips. A moment with his arms around me.
No fucking. Nothing even extreme like making out. It was normal to be curious with a man like Saint. He wanted me to be curious too. I saw the amusement in his eyes as he realized his games worked.
“I’m not scared of you.”
“Lie.”
“I know you won’t hurt me. It’s not who you are.”
“True, but I still scare you. Do you know why?”
I rolled my eyes. “Because you’re so big and strong?”
“Because I make you fear yourself.” When I rolled my eyes again, Saint only smiled. “I can control myself around you,” he said, stretching his arms across the hot tub wall. “Sitting there wet and barely dressed, you have the same effect on me as you would on any straight man. I am in control though. You aren’t.”
“You think you’re so hot, don’t you?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think. You think I’m hot. You want to know what I taste like. You’re the one scooting closer, not me.”
Glancing down, I realized I was sitting at the edge of the seat, no longer against the wall. I had moved closer without thinking. My gaze met his and I expected him to gloat. Saint surprised me once again. His smile was gone. A dark hypnotic gaze took its place.
“Don’t live life afraid,” he said in a slow, tempting voice.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.
“Yes, you do. That’s why you’re shaking.”
He held my gaze for a minute, maybe more. I couldn’t think straight. My body, mind, and heart were on a million pages. All I knew was Saint looked like the answer to my problems.
Lunging for him, I was lucky I didn’t land on his nuts and ruin the mood right there. My knees rested on each side of his strong thighs while my hands gripped his shoulders. I looked into his eyes then stopped. I didn’t know what to do next. Part of me needed to get out of the hot tub and run away. Another stronger part planned to get comfy right where I was.
“Yes or no?” he asked softly.
Still staring into his eyes, I whispered, “Maybe.”