Page 189 of Sins of Innocence

And suddenly, I'm done.

We are absolutely not doing this. We are not going back to pulling teeth to get a word out of him. We're past that and he'd better realize it.

"Kieran," I say sternly.

He turns. His expression isn't the stoicism I expect. It's filled with frustration. Anguish. Fear.

"Áine…" His voice trails off, no other words forthcoming after my name.

There's only one way this conversation is going to have any chance of progressing beyond his constipated word funnel.

I cross the room with determined steps and put my hand out to him. "Come on, big guy. Let's sit on the couch."

He swallows convulsively, but his hands remain at his sides, fisted so tightly his knuckles are white.

I grab one of his wrists and tug. He takes a step forward. We make our way to the couch like that, me walking backward, tugging him step-by-step until the backs of my legs come into contact with the sofa.

I don't sit down. I step to the side and nod toward the couch. "Sit down, Kieran."

His jaw works.

"Please, I need you to hold me right now."

He sits down. Like I expected him to. Because if he can give me something I need, Kieran will. And so far, we haven't come across anything I've needed, he hasn't had the power to give.

Not even his love.

I'm not sure he'll ever acknowledge the emotion for what it is, but Kieran Veseli loves me. I'm sure of it.

If I hadn't suspected before, the way he reacted to the accident today would have told me. The expression in his eyes when I opened mine to find him looking at me like he was terrified his entire world had just burned to the ground would have told me.

The way he was so careful with me, extracting me from the car like I was a major accident victim. Which, okay, maybe I was. But so was he and I didn't see him waiting for paramedics with a backboard to arrive to safely extract him from the SUV.

No, he was out of his seatbelt and protecting me even before I returned to consciousness.

Without another word, I climb onto his lap, my knees settling on either side of his hips.

Usually, his arms are around me, holding me to him before I even find my balance. His hands come up reflexively to my hips and then stop, like he's caught himself. He drops them to his sides again.

My chest hurts.

I pick up his right fist and press it against my waist. Then his left. It takes a full five seconds before his hands uncurl and his long fingers grip me almost convulsively.

I slide my arms around his neck and press my forehead to his. "You scared me."

His breath catches, his big body going taut.

"You were scared too," I say for him, feeling like right now, his words are still far away.

"Yes." The word comes out rough enough to scrape.

I kiss the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't kiss me back.

I don't let that stop me and I press my lips softly against his before drawing back to see his beloved face. "We were both afraid of losing each other."

He was afraid I'd died in the accident, though that fear was not even a little rational. I was and am afraid of losing him to his need to remain an emotional island.