“How?”
“Don’t know how to explain it. I just know there’s nothing ballsy or brave about living your whole life behind walls. The real good shit doesn’t start until those bricks come down and you invite someone in. If you’re not scared shitless, you’re doin’ it wrong.”
“But what if I like walls?” I asked, kicking at a rock with the toe of my sneaker.
“You don’t.”
“Pretty sure I do.”
He shook his head. “If you liked your walls so much, you wouldn’t be scared shitless right now.”
I rolled my eyes. “So how does this work? I’m just supposed to dump my deepest, darkest secrets, the ugliest parts of me, on everyone and then hope it doesn’t all go to hell?”
He gave me that bad-boy smirk. “Don’t be a dumbass. You don’t let everyone in. Only the ones who matter. The ones you want to trust. The ones you want to let you in. That vulnerability shit is just like respect. It’s earned.”
I wondered if maybe that was why I’d failed as a team member before. I didn’t trust anyone to have my back and I’d given them no reason to trust me with theirs.
“I think being with Naomi has quadrupled your daily word count,” I teased.
“Being with Naomi made me realize how miserable I was before. Everything I thought I wanted was just me trying to protect myself from really living. Like pushing people away,” he said pointedly.
I looked down at my toes and let his words rattle around in my brain. Did I want to keep living the way I always had? Or was I ready for more? Was I ready to stop pushing?
I blew out a breath. “I’m really proud of you, Knox.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Now stop fucking asking me about relationship shit.”
I bumped his shoulder with mine. “You’re gonna be a great husband and dad. A grumpy one with a foul vocabulary, but a great one.”
He grunted and I started for the door to the stairs.
“Lina?”
I turned back. “Yeah?”
“Never seen him like this with any other woman. He’s in deep and he’s hopin’ you are too.”
I wanted to smile and throw up at the same time. To be on the safe side, I bent at the waist again.
Knox smirked. “See? Scared shitless. Least you know you’re doin’ it right.”
I gave him a friendly middle finger.
I had the whole day to roll things around in my head. By midafternoon, I was so sick of my own thoughts I headed to the grocery store and bought fixings for turkey clubs.
Sandwiches didn’t count as cooking, I assured myself.
Back at Nash’s, I watered my plant, checked in with work, and—after a brief internet search—managed to cook the bacon in the oven without turning it into charcoal.
I assembled two sandwiches like they were works of art and then sat there staring at the clock. Nash wasn’t due home for almost another hour. I’d seriously mistimed my food prep.
On a whim, I pulled out my phone and called my mom.
“Well, this is a nice surprise,” Mom said when she came on-screen. The pure joy on her face over me reaching out to her spontaneously felt like a billion tiny guilt darts embedding themselves in my skin.
I leaned my phone against the jar of dog treats Nash kept on the counter. “Hey, Mom.”
“What’s wrong? You look… Wait. You look happy.”
“I do?”
“You have a glow. Or is that a filter?”
“No filter. I’m actually… I’m seeing someone,” I said.
My mother didn’t move a muscle on the screen.
“Mom? Did I lose you? I think you’re frozen.”
She leaned closer. “I’m not frozen. I’m just trying not to startle you with any sudden moves.”
“So there’s this guy,” I said, deciding to get it all out. “He’s…”
How was I supposed to explain Nash Morgan?
“Special. I think. I mean, he really is and I like him. Like a lot. A whole lot. But we just met and I have a life in Atlanta and a job that requires a lot of travel and am I completely losing my mind for thinking that maybe he might be worth changing all that for?”
I waited a beat and then another. My mother’s mouth was hanging open on the screen.
“Mom?” I prompted.
She started blinking rapidly. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m just processing the fact that you willingly called me to talk about your love life.”
“I didn’t say love. You said love,” I said, feeling the panic crawl up my throat.
“Sorry. Your like life,” my mother amended.
“I really like him, Mom. He’s just so…good. And real. And he knows me even though I tried to keep him from getting to know me. But even with everything he knows about me, he still likes me.”
“This sounds serious.”
“It could be. But I don’t know if I can do serious. What if he gets to know all of me and then he decides I’m too much or not enough? What if I don’t trust him enough and he gets tired of that? What would I do for a living if I quit my job and moved here for him? He doesn’t have nearly enough closet space.”
“Take the risk.”
“What?” I blinked, certain I’d misheard my mother.
“Lina, the only way you’re going to know if he’s the one is if you treat him like he’s the one. He can either earn the title or lose it. That’s up to him, but you’re the one who has to give him the chance to earn you.”
“I’m confused. You’ve always seemed so…risk averse.”
“Honey, I was a hot mess for years over what happened to you.”
“Uh, no shit, Mom.”
“I blamed myself. I blamed your father. The pediatrician. Soccer. The stress of high school. So I dedicated myself to trying to protect you from everything. And I think putting you in that bubble did worse long-term damage than your heart condition.”
“You didn’t damage me.” I hadn’t grown up a risk-averse little chicken. My job involved actual danger.
“You’ve viewed every relationship since as a potential prison.”
Okay, that rang a little true.
“If you really like this guy, then you need to give him a real chance. And if that means moving to Knockemunder—”
“Knockemout,” I corrected.
“What’s going on? Are we pausing this game or what?” My dad bellowed in the background.
“Lina has a boyfriend, Hector.”
“Oh great. Let’s tell everyone,” I said dryly.
My father squished into the frame. “Hi, kiddo. What’s this about a boyfriend?”
“Hey, Dad,” I said lamely.
“Where are you? That’s not your kitchen,” Dad said, leaning in to look at the screen, essentially blocking everyone else from the camera.
“Oh, I’m…uh…”
I heard the key in the lock.
“You know what, I should go,” I said quickly.
But it was too late. The front door swung open behind me and Nash, looking all kinds of fine in his uniform, and Piper in a new orange sweater walked in.
I spun around to look at him.