Page 10 of Burly and Obsessed

What if it’s not a crush? My hand moves to my chest, rubbing at an ache that’s been growing every day for the past three years.

“Water?”

I turn to find Hank holding out a bottle. His expression says he knows exactly where my mind was wandering.

“Thanks.” I take a long drink.

“Just sayin’, if you’re serious, better start acting like it.” Hank’s voice is casual, but his eyes are not.

I give Hank a hard look, assessing whether he’s fucking with me or trying to be genuinely helpful. “What are you talking about?”

Hank chuckles and shakes his head. “Ace, I know a lovesick man when I see one. Give me some credit.”

“It’s complicated. Jax gave me a chance when no one else would.” The truth isn’t easy to say. I’m more comfortable with jokes than vulnerability.

Hank leans against a stack of lumber. “Remember that bar fight in Jefferson? When those bikers got into it with Hank and Cody?”

I nod, unsure where he’s going with this.

“You jumped in without thinking, even though the odds were shit.” Hank shrugs. “You’ve never hesitated to risk your neck before. What makes this different?”

That’s a damn good question.

* * *

My truck idlesat the worksite overlook, engine rumbling beneath me while I stare at my phone. The sun sinks toward the mountains, painting the valley in gold.

I type,About yesterday...and stare at the words. Too vague. I delete it.

I should have been clearer yesterday. I want to see you. Not just for a beer.Too much. Delete.

Can I take you out sometime?Also, too vague. Makes me sound like a man who doesn’t know how to ask out a woman. Delete.

“Dammit,” I mutter, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat. I rub the knots in my shoulders, but I can’t ease the tension.

I roll down the window of my truck, letting mountain air rush in, but it doesn’t help. I can’t get yesterday out of my head—Andrea close enough that I could have reached out and pulled her into my arms, the way her tank top rode up when she reached to hang some lights, revealing a strip of smooth skin I wanted to trace with my tongue.

“Man up, Lincoln,” I tell myself, retrieving the phone. “It’s just a text message.”

But it’s not just a text. It’s Andrea. It’s the line I’ve been afraid to cross for three years.

Words never fail me with women. I’m the guy with the easy line, the disarming joke. But with Andrea, it feels like I can’t use the same lines. She makes me feel like I’ve never done this before.

I try again:You free for dinner next Friday?Too direct.

“Need help with anything else at the VA Center?” Lame.

I rub my hand across my face in frustration. “Why is this so damn hard?”

The phone buzzes in my hand, startling me. Andrea’s name lights up the screen.

I hear we’re both on flower duty. See you in the a.m.?

I read it three times. Then again. She’s reaching out after our awkward parting. After she turned down my invitation.

I still see her walking away. I’d wanted to follow her, to wrap my arms around her sexy curves. To press my lips against her neck. To whisper all the things I’ve been bottling up since the day Jax introduced us and immediately warned me off.

My thumbs move before my brain engages.Absolutely.

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