Page 44 of Beacon

“A lot’s happened since then.” He’s still got his arm wrapped around me. He adjusts it to pull me closer.

I lean my cheek against the side of his chest. “I know.”

Mack’s got his gun out and ready near his right hand, but it feels like we’re relatively safe for the moment. There aren’t any sounds around us except the chirping of night bugs and an occasional hoot of an owl. There’s only onedirection in which anyone can reach us, and we’re not going to be taken by surprise.

“Did you expect me to kiss you back then?” I ask after a minute.

He doesn’t answer immediately. “No. Not really. I knew you liked me, but I thought it was more a… a utilitarian-type thing. You needed someone to help, and I was there.”

“Surely you knew it was more than me using you.”

“Eh, it’s a fuzzy situation. When someone is relying on you for protection. Easy to take advantage. I didn’t want to do that. So I didn’t know what you were really thinking until you kissed me.”

“And then?”

“Then it was pretty clear you were into me.” There’s a faint, almost nostalgic smile in his voice.

“I was,” I admit with a giggle. “I’ve never stopped being into you.”

His arm tightens, but he doesn’t kiss me or make any sexual moves. It’s not a good idea outside at night as we are—any sort of distraction could put us in danger—so I hope that’s the only reason he’s holding back.

He’s silent so long that it unnerves me. So I ask, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking…” He trails off for so long that I’m not sure he’s going to complete the thought. “I’m thinking that the strongest I’ve ever felt in my life—the most confident and secure in who I really am—were all those days I spent protecting you.”

My heart clenches with emotion. How can it not? But it also starts sinking with a heaviness that’s new but expected both.

Because there’s a finality in Mack’s words. He’s referring to the past not the present.

He felt like himself protecting me back then when I was needy and helpless. It gave him a purpose and a channel for all his courage and care.

But I’m not that needy girl anymore. He can’t be himself with me the way he used to.

Things have changed and with it our relationship.

We might have hot sex now. I might finally feel like I’m getting what I want and need from him. I might at last be able to see a future with a man that doesn’t fill me with fear.

But he doesn’t feel the same way.

He told me last month that anything we can have at this point is temporary, but I realize now I’ve started hoping for more. I was starting to dream that maybe now—finally, at long last—we might be together for real. For good.

But life doesn’t work that way. Our timing might always be wrong. He wants it to be like it was in the beginning—when I wasn’t the person I really want to be.

He needs me to need him.

As long as he doesn’t really need me.

We spend the night slouched together in the alcove of the rocks. I doze on and off, but I don’t think Mack sleeps at all.

As the first light of dawn starts to peek through the trees, we get up by mutual agreement, go to the bathroom, and eat a quick breakfast before getting back on the quad.

My body is even sorer this morning than it was yesterday. Not only from the long, uncomfortable ride but also from a night on the ground. I spent months traveling with Maria when I slept outside every single night, but it’s been a couple of years now.

I must have gotten soft. Spoiled. I’d much rather spend my nights in a bed.

I suspect Mack must feel something similar. He was swallowing back a groan when he first stood up and stretched out his legs and back.

Neither of us complain. A little girl is in danger. She’s scared and at the mercy of heartless strangers. And we’re the only ones in a position to help.

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