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didn’t even understand why I’d done it, why I’d panicked and run until two weeks ago.”

She rested her hand on his shoulder, kneaded the tight muscles there. “Why did you panic and run?”

“Because you were different.”

Maybe the words should have hurt her feelings—being different wasn’t typically good in these scenarios—but instead, she understood at least part of what he was saying.

Because he’d been different, too.

“Baby,” she whispered.

“No,” he said. “Just let me get this out, okay? And then you can decide if you’re going to walk out that door, like I probably deserve, or . . .”

“Or what?” she asked after a few moments when he hadn’t finished the thought.

“Or”—his hands came to her jaw, cupping it gently—“if you’ll let me keep you forever.”

Her pulse had slowed from the frenzied tattoo of their kissing, a steady and calm thrum-thrum, thrum-thrum, thrum-thrum that was pumping blood evenly through her veins. But his words sent it into warp speed, carousing through her body, vibrating in her fingertips, galloping through her legs, whirling through her brain.

“For-forever?”

Gentle, still so gentle, but his eyes, they held a touch of humor. “Yes,” he said. “Forever. That’s what people do when they find the one person on this planet who’s destinated for them above all others.”

That almost poetry sang to a part of her—the piece that had been devastated when she’d woken alone that day only a few months before, the same piece that understood what he was saying, that felt the same, that wanted that forever.

The rest of her . . . was overwhelmed.

She hardly knew this man.

But . . . was that really accurate?

True, they hadn’t logged a lot of hours together yet, but she had seen so many of the important things. His time with Stef, the books, the date, the dinners and ice cream and movies and bad reality TV. The way he made her laugh and was quick to do so at himself. He was a good man—she knew that in her bones, knew it with as much certainty as she understood how many electrons orbited an atom of helium (that being two).

She’d already decided she wasn’t a coward.

She’d already decided she was going to see where things went with this man.

So, why couldn’t it be forever?

Why not her? Why not this wonderful man?

With the sun long set, with neighbors overhead clomping noisily across the ceiling, with a lovely, funny, sexy man in front of her, saying he wanted her . . . why couldn’t that be?

There wasn’t any reason.

It could be.

Heart still tripping along, her pulse still skittering in her veins, she peeled his hands from her cheeks, lacing their fingers together. “Okay,” she murmured. “What do you need to tell me?”

What could this man possibly tell her that he thought might have her bolting for the door?

His eyes were equal parts wary and concerned.

“I keep people at a distance, so they can’t leave me.” He swallowed hard. “So they can’t hurt me.”

She waited.

Because clearly, there must be more to this.

“I’ve done it since I was a kid,” he said. “I didn’t really realize it until recently, but I think it started when my mom got sick. It was easier to pretend everything was fine, that I was fine.” He sighed. “But the truth is that I continued doing it, and I used traveling as an excuse to keep my distance even more.”

She squeezed his hands. “Hard to have a serious relationship when you’re out of the country all the time.”

“Yes. That.”

“I’m sorry your mom was sick,” she said.

His eyes softened. “It was a long time ago.”

“She’s a big presence in your guys’ lives, though.” Heidi slipped one hand free so she could push back her hair that seemed determined to get into her eyes. “I can tell that just from the couple of times I’ve met her.”

“She is,” he told her. “She’s the glue that holds everything together.”

“I can see how the fear of losing that might affect you.”

Brad stilled. “Why am I hearing a but?”

She winced. “Well, it’s not so much a but—”

He cursed. “I get it,” he said, interrupting her and taking off down a tangent that had nothing to do with anything that she’d been thinking. “I understand why you wouldn’t want to trust your heart with someone who’s just going to flit off and leave you alone—someone who’s already done that. I totally get it if you want me to just keep my distance, to not keep pursuing you. Hell, if I was in your position, I wouldn’t have been nearly as nice or understanding as you’ve been. I would have kicked my ass to the curb and—”

“Are you?” she interrupted, having the feeling that if she didn’t interrupt, then she might never get another word in edgewise. He was too far along the road of self-chastisement, determined to flagellate himself until he was sufficiently punished for his transgressions.

She saw now.

She understood now. What was in her heart . . . and what was in his.

Beyond the courage she’d summoned to take a chance with him, beyond her own hang-ups with self-worth, she saw that this man would take every opportunity to carry more than his fair share of burdens. He’d continue taking them on, one after another, piling them across his shoulders until he couldn’t take a step, couldn’t move forward at all.

Unless she stopped him.

His words had faltered at her question, but he didn’t answer it.

So, she prompted him again. “Are you?”

He blinked. “Am I what?”

“Are you going to flit off and leave me to wake up in my bed all alone again?”

His expression clouded. “Fuck, no,” he said. “I’ve spent the last months imagining all the places I want to take you, everything I want you to see. If I travel, I want you right by my side.”

“So, that’s it?”

Brows drawing together, he cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Is that all of your baggage? Everything that would have me kicking you to the proverbial curb?”

“I—um—I—” His mouth opened and

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