Page 28 of Ravaged With You

He put them on—jeans and a Swift Red tee—then told himself he couldn’t avoid seeing her and pulled open the door. She looked up when he entered the living area, and he was relieved to see she’d put on a robe. She stood in the connecting kitchen, staring at the coffeemaker as if that would make it brew faster.

She looked up at him, and though she smiled in greeting, he thought he saw trepidation in her eyes. As if she was afraid he’d go postal on her again.

“I thought Mel’s clothes might fit you. Figured you’d want something clean.”

“Thanks.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine, not by a long shot. But he didn’t argue.

She poured a cup of coffee and passed it to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Her lips twitched. “Color me not surprised.” She crossed the small area back to the coffee maker.

“Bottom line, I’m not used to waking up to a woman in my bed.” That was true, but it damn sure wasn’t all of it, and he was certain Jo would realize that as well.

She poured her own coffee with her back to him, then turned to face him. “Are you telling me you’re celibate? Or you just haven’t been dating for a while?”

He almost told her it didn’t matter. He’d apologized; end of story. But dammit, she deserved more. This was Jo, after all, and even if he couldn’t have her, that didn’t alter the reality that he’d loved her for years. As a friend and, yes, as so much more.

He took a sip of coffee. “I don’t date. And I’m not celibate.”

Her head tilted as she took that in, and he wondered if she understood. He had dated when they were in school, and it was only his fear of screwing up their friendship that had kept Jo out of that circle. But since he’d returned? There was only a certain type of woman he was willing to let see the kind of man he was now.

“Call girls? Jesus, Red, why? You’re an incredible man. I can think of a half dozen women who’d be thrilled to go out with you.”

“I sincerely doubt that.”

“What are you—”

“We’re dropping it, okay?” He’d already skirted too close to the line. He had no intention of ever telling her what happened, and if they kept this conversation up, he’d have to either lie or hurt her feelings to shut it down. “You’re my closest friend in the world, Jo, but that doesn’t mean I owe you an explanation.”

She pressed her lips together, and he felt like an ass.

“No,” she said after a long pause. “Of course it doesn’t. I’m sorry about pushing. And about coming to bed. I should have stayed in my room, not expected you to babysit me.”

She was right; he should never have let her share his bed. That had opened the door, and now his secrets were trying to escape. But how could he have refused her?

“Last night wasn’t about my issues,” he said. “It was about you and Mel and loss, and there was no way in hell I was going to push you away. I will always be there for you, Jo. Especially right now. Please tell me you know that? That even though I lost my shit, you still believe it.”

She looked down at her coffee as she said, “Of course I do. It’s all really stressful now. We should cut ourselves some slack.”

Everything she said made sense, but there was too clean an edge to her voice, as if they were strangers finding their way.

She took one last sip of her coffee, then put her mug in the sink. “I’m going to go get dressed. Then we can head out.”

“Sounds good.”

She brushed past him as she left, his body shifting into fight-or-flight mode as she did, a visceral response to that wretched shampoo scent.

He watched her leave, wishing things were different. Wishing he was different. But they weren’t, and when she reached her bedroom door, he called out for her to stop.

She paused, looking at him over her shoulder.

“Do me a favor and take a shower, would you?”