Page 66 of Known By You
Was I so hell-bent on self-preservation I couldn’t take a risk with someone so completely wonderful?
Because that’s what she was. She was not only beautiful and physically attractive to me in a way few women had been, but she was good. And she was grappling with what she wanted out of her life in an honorable way I admired. She was an amazing friend to me already, and she’d been so tender and supportive, I just knew this was how she treated Jo and her family, too.
How could I look myself in the eye a year from now if I didn’t at least try to spend more time with her? Maybe she’d say no, that it wouldn’t work for her. But what if she said yes? What if we could be good together for a little while—wasn’t that better than nothing?
In the past, I might’ve said no. I wasn’t the kind of man who wanted fast and fleeting. It’d never appealed to me after something I thought would be permanent proved to be so flimsy. I wanted forever with someone. I wanted my otter.
There was some saying about it being better to have loved and lost than not loved at all. The Kenny of the moment reckoned this and didn’t want to live with eternal what ifs, even if the Kenny of years ago knew just how terrible the losing part was, and that was a version of love that seemed more than a little basic in hindsight.
And maybe I could help her, too. Maybe I could give her the gift of clarity about the way forward and encourage her to value herself and invest in herself instead of shoving all her desires down past her work obligations. If she’d give me a chance, I could be good for her.
Even for a moment, but then again, entire lives changed in a moment. So… yeah. There. We could do this.
“You don’t need to thank me, Kenny. Please come in.”
She took the flowers and walked inside, so I shut the door behind me and followed her in.
“I don’t actually know if there’s a vase in here.” She gingerly set the bouquet down and started looking through cabinets.
“If not, I’ll bring you one. I didn’t actually think about that, sorry.”
She turned toward me. “You don’t get to apologize for that.”
I scowled. “I’ll apologize about whatever I want, thank you.”
She rolled her eyes and returned to her search, finally pulling out a large pitcher that would actually work well. After adding water and sliding the arrangement out of the waxed paper sleeve, she turned to me.
“How do you feel today?”
I couldn’t stop myself from reaching for her hand and pulling her to me. She came willingly, accepting my hug and returning it, resting her head on my shoulder in a way that made my heart twist.
“Good, actually, and so much of that is thanks to you.” I squeezed her tight once more before letting her go somewhat regretfully.
“I will take credit for feeding and watering you so you weren’t so wilted yesterday,” she said, moving to the living room and taking a seat on the couch.
I took a spot on the cushion next to her, pulse skittering in my veins and I would’ve sworn, if I’d looked, my heart on my sleeve.
“I’m a flower?”
She smiled. “Sometimes.”
I pretended to brush my hair over my shoulder. “Well, then. I must be pretty.”
She chuckled. “Yes, so pretty, especially when you’re slurring your words and can hardly see straight.”
Wincing, I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Yeah. I was a mess. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Her hand on my leg stopped me and drew my gaze.
“I’m not. I’m glad I was there.”
“Me, too. I have a few things to say, if you’ll let me.”Way to make it dramatic, drama king.
“Of course.”
I swallowed, hoping I could get all of this out. “First, I’m sorry for the multiple times I crossed a line and said things about wanting you—or, just, you know, all the things.” I waved a hand, obviously floundering.
She laughed softly and steadied my hands with her own. “I wasn’t upset by anything. You probably said some things you wouldn’t have without the tequila on board, but I never felt unsafe or like you were being sketchy. If you had been, I would’ve put you in an arm bar or maybe choked you out.”
