Page 89 of The Catch

His shoulders fell, and he pulled out of her hands. “This was a bad idea.”

“No. You just said you needed help—”

“I know what I said. I mean this.” He gestured at the lack of space between them with a pained expression. “Hanging out on the couch, touching. We’re acting like it’s the same. It’s not.”

“But it can be.”

“No, Catia. It can’t.”

The tight line of his mouth was a dagger hovering over her chest. She braced herself for the plunge, but she had to say something. Dani was right. It was killing her to be in the same house with him and not talk about it. “I’m so sorry, Josh. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Stop.” All the emotion drained from his face then. She could see it in the square of his shoulders and the way his cheeks sucked in as he bit his tongue—a switch had flipped.

His resignation began to worm its way through her fragile resistance. She believed in what Dylan had said, but she couldn’t sit there with him and hope for something he wasn’t willing to give. Not if what he was saying was true, that this wasn’t an option anymore.

“I’m going to go to bed,” she said. Her words sounded like they were tumbling over rocks as she held back a sob. She stood and turned away quickly before he could see her lose control. “Dylan’s home. He can go with you tomorrow to get your car.”

Josh’s chest felt tight, his heart and lungs calcifying into something brittle and ready to shatter. When he watched Cat walk up the stairs, the room felt instantly cold—like the chill that creeps into an old house when the hearth is put out.

He’d tried to keep things safe for both of them, but it was getting harder to deny how much he wanted her there. When she’d touched his cheek and stroked his hair, it was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and hold her like he was used to.

If someone had asked him right then why he was denying himself that type of love, why he’d ever walked away from her, he might not have been able to explain it. She didn’t understand. Maybe he didn’t either, but she thought his distance was punitive, and that was the furthest thing from the truth. There was an unsteadiness that came with the way he loved her. It was that kind of all-in infatuation you have when you’re a kid and you don’t know how gruesome the fall can be. But he did know. He’d known falling in love with Cat was going to be more dangerous from the start, and he did it anyway. Leaving that night hadn’t changed that, but now every time he felt that pull in his chest or flutter in his gut, a warning tempered it:She’s not really yours.

Still, he couldn’t help but hold on to the fact that he should be alone right now, yet here she was taking care of him. He’d told her he’d been taking care of himself for twenty years, but what he didn’t say was how good it felt not to have to.

For some reason, maybe that very same one, he pulled his aching body off of the couch and headed toward the stairs where she’d disappeared. As he approached the door to his guest room, he saw her standing at the foot of the bed, back to him, and bathed in the soft light of the table lamp. His pajama pants were rolled low on her hips like they were in his hotel room that night when he’d let himself imagine what having her would feel like.

He watched as she pulled her sweater up over her head, her ponytail swinging from the breeze, and his body stirred at the sight. Not a sexual stirring. He was far too exhausted for that. Though if he wasn’t, that lacy bra would have been impossible to resist. But no, this was a different kind of warmth washing over him—the warmth of comfortability, the feeling of knowing someone inside and out. He knew about that tiny birthmark so high up on the inside of her thigh that he was innately jealous of anyone else who’d ever seen it. He knew the exact curve of that little bit of extra flesh just above the waistband of her jeans that she hated, but he loved to squeeze. He knew the way soft tendrils of hair always fell out of the back of her ponytail, gracing the nape of her neck and causing her to pin and repin them up throughout the day. He didn’t even have to look at her to know the vignette of her body. He’d memorized it a long time ago, and he’d called upon it night after night while he lie in bed, miserable and alone since he’d broken things off. Now she was back within his reach, and he was standing there like a thirsty man at a river, refusing to drink on principle.

“Cat.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, pulling in a shaky breath. When she turned, he saw the tears running down her cheeks. She reached up to wipe at her eyes, but he stepped toward her, grabbing her wrist, and pulled her against him. “Please don’t cry,” he said, catching her tears with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, Josh. I thought I could do this.” She pushed against him with her forearms, trying to take a step back, but even though he was weaker than usual, he still easily held her in place. She relaxed in his arms and sniffed. “I thought I could be your friend with no agenda, but you were right. It’s too hard. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.” His heart was already bleeding from the exposure, but he couldn’t deny it. He’d been miserable since he watched her disappear in his rearview mirror. She was the spark that had been lighting his life for months now. Without her, the days felt longer, the nights darker, the air too thick to breathe. Missing her was an understatement.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. Her face twisted from holding in a sob, and he tucked her head under his chin, shushing her with his lips in her hair.

“You can’t keep apologizing to me.”

“Then, you have to forgive me!” Her voice was desperate, and he squeezed her tighter. “Even if we can’t fix it. Please. Just say you forgive me.”

“It’s not like that, Cat. I do forgive you. I know you didn’t mean anything by that stupid bet. I just… I can’t settle for loving you more than you love me. I can’t look at you every day knowing that. Not you.”

He dropped his hold on her, startling himself with the truth of what he’d said. Ever since he was a kid, living in this very bedroom, that was his reality. What he’d said about his grandfather wasn’t true—he hadn’t tried his best. He could have done more, could have made him feel more wanted, like less of a stranger that he had an obligation to. He was all the family he had until Dylan and Shawn.

He wasn’t exaggerating when he called his two best friends his family, but he’d always been acutely aware that they both had people in their lives that fit that label more appropriately.

And Sarah? She was never the type of woman who wanted what she had. She’d changed her major three times in four years, her job a few more times after that. He’d wanted a life with her, but he’d just been one of her growing pains, a stop on the way to something better. He was tired of never actually having what he thought he had, of wanting more from people than they could give.

When he met Cat, though, he knew. If she picked him, he could damn well bet she’d already thought of all the reasons she shouldn’t. When Cat set her heart on something, she wasn’t giving it up for anything. Having a woman like that love him? He could live off of that for a hundred years.

“Josh,” she said, pulling him back to her, “please don’t say that. I know I fought it in the beginning, and I screwed it up more than once, but Idolove you.” She gripped his shirt, forcing him to hold her gaze. “The truth is, I don’t think I even knew what that meant until you showed me. I used to think loving someone was a weakness I had to fight off. But you always knew better than that. Don’t change because I had to catch up. I’m here with you now.”

Her tears were falling faster than he could catch them now, running in little rivers down her pretty pink cheeks. God, he wanted her back. He’d earned his wariness, just like her, but the fact of the matter was that shewasthere. She’d fed him, washed his face, made sure he woke up to take his medicine. It was the first time in his life that he truly couldn’t rely on himself, and she’d been there without any obligation or charity. No questioning if he was worth it. She wanted to be there, and he hadn’t made it easy, but she’d stayed anyway. He’d been looking for something solid to build on; maybe this was it.

“I love you too, Cat,” he said. He pressed a kiss to her temple, then her cheek, then she tipped her chin and he caught her lips, sighing as he savored the familiar feel. “I never stopped.”

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