I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s okay, Lucas. Things have been . . .” She blows out a heavy breath. “Crazy since we met. I planned to jump at the first opportunity to get out of here, but things have changed and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“Changed how?” The words fall from my lips on a whisper and I dare to hope for things I don’t have a right to.
“I met you.”
My breath catches in my throat. “Shy, no—”
“Don’t list all the reasons why we won’t work, Lucas. I know them all.” She taps her index finger to her temple. “They run on an endless loop up here.”
I’m broken.
Unstable.
Dangerous.
Her palm presses to her chest. “But what I feel here, when we’re together, makes me believe anything is possible.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Gage, he hurt you . . . If anything ever happened to you, I’d never be able to live with myself.”
She leans forward, both forearms on the desk. “Last night Gage had every opportunity to hurt me and he didn’t.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“Don’t you see what’s happening? He’s starting to trust me. You’re starting to trust me.” She pushes up from her seat, rounds the desk, and props a hip on its edge. “Gage is your protector, right?”
“I . . . yes.”
“So all I need to prove is that I’m no threat and he’ll leave us alone.”
I adjust my baseball hat to avoid looking at her. This is all too much, more than I deserve. I should say no, push her away, go back to ignoring her completely, but she’s offering more than I could ever hope to dream for.
Everything she says seems logical. If there’s no threat, there will be no Gage. But what if she’s wrong? Emotion isn’t subject to logic. Gage has the capability to leave death and destruction in his wake. He’s done it before. He could do it again.
I do my best to push the past from my mind.
It’s selfish; it’s more than selfish—it’s cruel—but even still, I want her. “Okay, I’ll try.”
She lunges at me and wraps her arms around my neck.
“Thank you, Lucas.” Her breath skates along my skin and my hands grip the armrests to keep from crushing her to my chest.
Seconds pass and a palpable heat builds between us. The joints in my hands ache as I refuse to release the chair and finally she pulls back, her neck flush and smile shaky.
Her focus zeroes in on my lips and then darts to my eyes, as if she’s asking permission. I groan in blessed agony as the pull to her is just as powerful as my instinct to flee. Locked in the innocence of her gaze, I remain still as she presses a closed-lipped kiss to my lips. “Okay?”
I suck in a hesitant breath. “I’m good.”
“See? It’s working already.” She steps back and props a tight denim-clad hip against her desk, putting the needed distance between us before I lock my arms around her and refuse to let her go.
“Shy, just promise me if things get . . . if they get to be too much . . . promise me you’ll stay away.”
“Lucas, I—”
“Promise me!” I cringe, lean forward and rest my head in my hands. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to yell at you. I just need you to promise me you’ll stay away from me if Gage becomes . . . too much.”
She crouches down in front of me and peeks up with tenderness. “I’ll promise, Lucas, but only if you promise me the same. If at any time what we have causes you too much stress, you walk away. Okay?”
A humorless laugh bursts from my lips. “That’s the problem, Shy. Don’t you get it?” I dare a touch, reach forward and run a strand of her silky black hair between my fingers. “I can’t. I’ve tried, and . . .” I lick my lips and force the words from my mouth no matter how pathetic they may make me sound. “You’re impossible to walk away from.”
SHYANN
I blink. For the first time in as long as I’ve been alive I’m rendered speechless.
He feels it too.
This whole time I’ve tried to talk myself out of wanting him, listed all the reasons—and there are plenty—why I should just forget about Lucas and focus on my plan to leave Payson, but as much as I’ve tried, I’ve failed.
You’re impossible to walk away from, too, Lucas.
I roll the words around my mouth, staring into his eyes that have never looked more unguarded. The words freeze in my throat, because the fact is staying with Lucas means living in a town that, given enough time, will eat me alive and spit out my bones.
His brows drop low as he watches me and suddenly his expression falls in understanding. “I better go.” He stands so abruptly I lose my balance and lean back against my desk to keep from falling flat on my butt.
“Wait!”
He shifts on his feet and tugs his hat lower over his eyes. “The mantelpiece is finished. I need to drop it off—”
“It’s here?”
He jerks his head toward the door. “In the truck. Wasn’t sure after the vandalizing if Mr. Jenn—er . . . Nash wanted me to drop it at the house or not.”