Page 46 of Ravaged With You

She reached over and took his hand. “I’m really sorry,” she said. “But, Red, I can’t tell you how glad I am that I’m not going through this alone.”

His heart twisted, and he wanted to give himself a hard, solid punch to the head. What the hell was he doing telling her all that? Scaring her more than she already was?

“Do not even,” she said as they stepped into the elevator to go to his ninth floor unit.

“Don’t what?” he asked as the elevator started to rise.

“Regret telling me the truth about what we’re in the middle of.”

“Stop reading my mind.”

She shrugged and flashed him a lighthearted grin. “It’s what I do.”

God, how he wanted to kiss her right then.

“What?” she said, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face.

He dodged with another truth. “Everything we’re in the middle of, and you can still laugh.”

“Oh.” She looked down, and he watched as her shoulders rose and fell, and he wanted to kick himself.

“Jo, hey, I didn’t mean that as a bad—”

“I know you didn’t.” She met his eyes, hers hard with determination. “I’m not naive, Red. I know the depth of mire we’re in. But I can’t wallow in it. That wouldn’t do anyone any good. And yes, I miss Mel—I do. It pisses me off that I can’t even mourn him properly.”

The elevator car came to a stop and the doors opened, but she didn’t make a move. “I hate that he died when our marriage was in trouble,” she continued. “And I hate the fact that no matter what was going on between us, the real tragedy is that I lost a friend. Both of us lost a friend.”

She took a deep breath, then pressed the button to keep the elevator doors open, even though she didn’t budge from the small car. “But I can’t be that person. I don’t want to be. So I choose to look at the good side.”

“The good side,” he repeated.

“Yeah,” she said, finally stepping off the elevator.

“And what’s that?”

She glanced over his shoulder with a well, duh look. “You, dummy.”

“I’m not sure I’m qualified to be anybody’s good side,” he said, following her to his unit.

“I’m not going through this alone, which is a bonus. We’ve been rebuilding a friendship, which we both know had started to flounder.”

“No. We were—”

“I don’t mean like that. We’ll be friends forever. But like we talked about last night. It wasn’t as … I don’t know … intimate as it had been before. And now I feel like we’re back. That’s all.”

She stepped aside to let him get his key into the door, and he was grateful for the diversion. Otherwise she might have seen the evidence of the way that word—intimate—had shot through him, firing all sorts of lust-filled responses that had no business firing.

“I get it,” he said, pushing the door open. He hurried inside. “I’m going to go pack a bag,” he said, then he was off, leaving her to make herself at home while he took a breather in the back.

Because damn it, this had to stop. He couldn’t keep thinking about her like that. Couldn’t keep wanting her. Craving her.

But he did. He always had.

And how much of an asshole did it make him that all these feelings had bubbled to the surface in the wake of his buddy’s death. “God, Mel, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Behind him, Jo cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to interrupt—I only wanted to know if you wanted me to pack up your plants on the patio and bring them along. I mean, if you’re staying until this is over, it may be awhile.”

He shook his head. “My neighbor has a key. I’ll ask her to check in on them.”