He stared at her. “It wasn’t like that at all.”
“Wasn’t it?” She stirred her drink. “Maybe you should think on it and reevaluate how you feel about her.”
“I know how I feel about her.”
“Really? How?”
“I—” He frowned again. “None of your goddamned business. That’s between me and Savannah.”
“Have you told her how you feel?”
“Well…” He thought on it, thought about what he’d said that night. About how they were compatible. How he liked her. He hadn’t been able to get the words out. Not about how he really felt about her. They’d stuck in his throat.
How that must have sounded to her. “Shit.”
“Exactly.”
“I thought she knew how I felt.”
“And she would know this, how?”
He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Fuck.”
“She told you about her childhood, didn’t she?”
“Yeah. And the thing that scares her the most is someone not being there for her. Someone not loving her.”
“Now you’re beginning to see the light. There may be hope for you yet, dumbass.”
He paid the bill and they got up to leave.
He went over to Liz and took her hand.
“Thanks. I needed to hear this. Now I have to find her and tell her how I feel. I love her, Liz.”
“Oh, you prick. You’re going to make me all teary-eyed, and I’m not wearing waterproof mascara.”
He laughed. “Sorry.”
“I’ll drive you back. Now go make it all better for your girl.”
TWENTY-TWO
SAVANNAH HAD PUT IT OFF LONG ENOUGH. SHE HAD never been a coward and she wasn’t going to be one now. She had to talk to Cole and tell him how she felt. He’d made the first move and had suggested they move in together. So he hadn’t given her the whole I-love-you hearts-and-flowers spiel. So what?
And what had she done? She’d focused on what he hadn’t done, instead of what he had done. He’d made an amazing step toward a committed relationship. She’d been the one to fumble the ball. She was supposed to be the one with the amazing communication skills. Instead of opening up and talking about things, she’d gotten all emotional, closed up, and thrown him out.
Now she had to fix it.
If he didn’t want to move forward with her after that, so be it. At least she would have put her cards on the table. She could walk away with a clear heart then.
She was going to invite him over tonight. She knew he had practice earlier today, but as far as she knew he had nothing on his schedule tonight.
She’d lain low for a week now, not answering his calls, too afraid to talk to him or see him, too afraid he might not feel the same way she did.
But she missed him. And she had to know. One way or the other, she had to know.
She picked up her phone, stared at it, formulated in her mind what she would say.
Failure wasn’t something she had much experience with, except on the other side, where she coached her clients. She’d coached many of them through failure, taught them to come out stronger because of it. To be on this side of it was humbling. It hurt to fail, made her want to curl up in a ball and not try again. She’d worked so hard her entire life to be a success, and she had been. She hadn’t stumbled—not even once. She’d set goals for herself and she’d met every one of them, because she was determined to go it on her own and never have to depend on anyone again.
But she had depended on someone—Cole. She’d put her heart in his hands and he’d disappointed her.
That’s what humans did. They tried, but they often disappointed those they loved the most. She’d learned that with her mother, which was why she’d spent her entire life avoiding putting her heart out there.
Cole would probably disappoint her again. Was she willing to take that risk? Could she live with the potential for heartbreak?
Or was she searching for a perfect man in her mind that simply didn’t exist?
That was too much pressure for any guy. Maybe it was time she accept him for who he was—an amazing man with flaws, just like she had flaws.
She took a deep breath. “You’re not a child anymore, Savannah. It’s time to grow up and take a chance on love.”
She raised her fingers to punch the buttons on her phone, then jumped when it buzzed in her hand.
It was Cole calling. She clicked the button. “Hello?”
“Hey. You answered.”
Guilt washed over her. “Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t before.”
“Are you home?”
Her stomach tightened. “Yes. Can you come over? I’d like to talk to you.”
“Actually, I’m right outside your door.”
“You are?” She hurried to the door and opened it. He was there, on her doorstep, looking so gorgeous and warm and human she wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him to forget the conversation they’d had last week. Instead, she clicked off her phone. “So you are.”
“I’ve been here almost every day I was in town. Multiple times. You weren’t here. You didn’t answer the door.”