Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Abby

I wasn’t sure what I’d expected when Rafe came into my room. But him telling me about being lonely and keeping his distance so he wouldn’t hurt anyone hadn’t been it.

I knew his actions had something to do with his parents’ car crash and feeling responsible for it. Emmy had shared her own guilt but had dealt with it by giving others happiness rather than taking it for herself. Well, at least until West had come along and helped her heal and realize it wouldn’t bring her parents back. No, they would’ve wanted their daughter to live her life and be happy.

Rafe, on the other hand, had kept himself apart, thinking he would hurt anyone he became close to. Just thinking about him living a persona for over a decade, never being himself, made me want to hug him. Despite all my own trust issues, I knew, deep down, that my family loved me. I bet this man kneeling before me hadn’t even realized that he’d had his sister’s love all this time.

He’d had no family, no close friends, either, it sounded like, and no one to love him.

I itched to cup his face, pull him close, and kiss him. Let him in a little , my heart screamed. And yet, my brain remembered the last time I had done that.

“I want to believe you.” His face fell, but I quickly added, “While I can’t snap my fingers and erase all of my doubts and pain and past, I want to give you a chance. I really do. Just answer one more thing, and I’ll promise to try and do it.”

Rafe reached as if to take my hand, but then stopped. “Ask me, Abigail. Anything.”

“Do you still feel responsible for your parents’ death?”

He looked away, frowning, and I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he whispered, “Yes.”

At the sadness in his voice, I couldn’t help but lean over, hug him, and lay my head atop his. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault. That he couldn’t have stopped the drunk driver who’d hit his parents’ car on the way to the airport.

And yet, I sensed Rafe would close up again if I said that. I would have to bide my time and press it later. For now, I merely said, “Thank you for answering. If you ever want to talk about it, about anything, I’m here.”

He wrapped his arms around me, and we stayed that way for over a minute, silent and embracing. It would be so easy to love this complicated man.

Not that I would allow myself to fall, of course. Rafe may have shared a little about himself, but we were friends, nothing more. Okay, maybe friends with benefits, considering he’d had his mouth between my thighs. But this wasn’t love.

Couldn’t become love.

I released him, put out my hand, and said, “Let’s shake on trying to believe one another.”

He took my hand, and I ignored the little thrill at the feel of his skin against mine.

As soon as he released me, I hesitated. Part of me wanted to ask him to hold me so we could give each other a little comfort. No sex, just acknowledging we’d each have someone to lean on, at least for the next year.

But I was drained and tired and probably not the best picture with swollen eyes and who knew what my hair looked like. So I wrapped my arms around myself and smiled. “I think we each need a little time to recharge. Will you be here in the morning?”

He stood and nodded. “Until the training facility opens, my schedule will be somewhat unpredictable. However, I will try my damnedest to have breakfast with you every day. Maybe lunch some days, when you’re working too. But breakfast, for sure.”

“As long as you don’t eat at like 4 a.m.”

“While I’m a morning person, even that is an ungodly hour to get up.” His lips twitched. “You weren’t ever a morning person, as far as I can remember. Do I need to brew some extra strong coffee before ten a.m.?”

After sticking my tongue out at him, I replied, “I’m not that bad. I was a teacher, after all.”

I waited for the shame and pain of my student teaching semester to crash over me. And yet, all I remembered was my strong morning coffees, teasing the students in class, and sometimes wanting to pull my hair out as I learned how to deal with high schoolers.

Pushing aside the past, I focused back on Rafe. “I try to eat around 7 or 7:30 a.m. But speaking of mornings and getting ready, how is your water heater?”

He blinked at the non sequitur. “My water heater?”

“Will it survive two people taking showers in the morning, at about the same time? Or is it temperamental, like the one at my family’s house, where you have to schedule showers carefully with so many people or risk arctic temperatures?”

“It’s tankless, so don’t worry about it. Although you might want to close the door when you shower. Your singing…”

I narrowed my eyes. “What about my singing?”

“Well, let’s just say you have something in common with the cats on your robe.”

I grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him. Rafe caught it easily, the bastard, and lunged it right back. “Hey, you wanted honesty.”

“Maybe. But you could’ve just asked me to close the door because I’m loud and not compare me to a howling cat.”

He smiled, and my heart skipped a beat. Damn, he was handsome. Rafe had rarely smiled since returning to Starry Hills, and now I wanted to see it all the time.

Rafe said, “Just think of it this way—it gives you the freedom to tell me the truth as well.”

“Do I dare, though? Men and their egos…”

With a growl, he crossed the room and tickled my side. I laughed, trying to kick him away, and eventually I made contact with something soft.

“Abigail, fuck, my balls aren’t going to survive much longer around you.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Rafe! I didn’t mean to kick you there.”

I rubbed his back, and he curled onto his side, cupping himself. “I thought I was done wearing a cup, but I guess not.”

I felt bad, and yet, I still couldn’t help but laugh. “What, so one day you’ll just show up and walk around the house in full football protective gear? American football, that is.”

“If I can handle an asshole kicking me with cleats, I can handle my wife.”

“Hmm, cleats. Now there’s an idea…”

He growled, and I laughed again, unable to help it. Teasing him was so much fun.

“It’s good to see you smile and laugh, Abigail. Your tears just about tore out my heart.”

My gaze shot to his, and something electric passed between us. “Is that part of your husbandly duties now? To make me laugh?”

“One of them.” He slowly sat up, wincing, and added, “I need a bag of frozen peas.”

“I could go get some and help you until you recover.”

“No.” The word was harsh, but then his voice softened. “No, Abigail. Rest. I’m just going to watch whatever game I can find, drink a beer or two, and freeze my balls until they stop hurting.” He added something under his breath that I couldn’t hear.

But he stood before I could ask him about it, and he almost waddled to the door.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing again. “Good night, Rafe.”

“Good night, Abigail.”

He paused, as if debating about saying something else, but then he was gone.

I plopped back on my bed, smiling, and wondered about two things. One, would he truly make time for me every morning for breakfast? And two, would he ever kiss me again? Because not asking him to stay the night in my bed had been hard. Way too hard.

Time would tell just how far I’d take being honest with Rafe Mendoza.