Page 89 of The Persistence of Thornes
I’ve never… They’ve never seen me with a boyfriend. If that’s even what Caleb is. I guess I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had one. I’ve had flings and one-night stands, but never a relationship that warranted an introduction to my brothers. But they already know Caleb. Not only that, but I’m not just their sister anymore. I’m their guardian. I want to set a good example for them. I don’t want to be like Mom, bringing home all the wrong kinds of guys, allowing virtual strangers near the boys.
This situation with Caleb is the farthest thing from it. Even so, it’s hard to shake the fear that I might be like her.
Caleb slides the finished grilled cheese onto a plate and passes it to me and says “let it cool a bit” before he gets to work assembling the next sandwich. As he places the second piece of bread on top of the first, he side-eyes me. “What’s on your mind?”
Ugh. This man. This sweet, kind, annoyingly perfect man sees throughallof me. I can’t hide a single worry from him.
“Nothing,” I lie, tracing my finger along a line in the stone countertop.
A low rumble starts in his chest. “Halle.”
My name is both a plea and a warning.
I should know better than to lie to him.
But the trauma that’s clung to me my whole life makes keeping my thoughts and vulnerabilities to myself feel safer. I’m afraid to divulge the insecurities of my mind, but the truth is that if Iwantthis thing with Caleb, I have to learn to open up. But, God, is it harder than it should be.
“I just… what are we?” I ask, hesitantly meeting his gaze.
He slides the spatula under the second grilled cheese and puts the sandwich on a plate. Then he turns, leaning back against the counter, and zeroes in on me.
“What do you want to be?”
My stomach flips at the intensity in his tone. “I don’t know, but not because I don’t like you. I don’t know how to do this.” I wave a hand between us. “I’ve never dated before. I don’t know the rules. I don’t know what signs to look for to determine whether this is serious or when to determine it’s not worth pursuing.”
His lips tip up slowly, his smile as breathtaking as the sun slowly rising in the sky. “If I’d thought you’d be okay with me calling you my girlfriend, I would’ve started already.”
“Caleb.” I drop my face into my hands to hide my embarrassment.
“Hey.” His tone is gentle, as are his hands when he carefully pulls them away. Standing in front of me, he says, “Wedon’t have to put a label on this yet. Not if you aren’t ready. We’ve only known each other a few months. I understand your hesitation.”
“You do?” The damn question comes out watery, the threat of tears close. What is it about this man that rattles me this way? I’ve never been much of a crier, but it’s like he knows exactly how to hit those most sensitive parts of my soul.
“You’re scared and?—”
“I’mnotscared,” I grit out, trying to wriggle my way out of his hold.
He holds on tighter, but not so tight that I couldn’t actually get away if I wanted. “You are scared, and it’s okay, I’m scared too.”
My heart stutters. “You are?”
“Mhm,” he hums, blue eyes warm and deep as he surveys me, no doubt cataloging my freckles or the small mole on my lip. “Downright terrified.”
“Why?” The question comes out small. Meek. Like a little mouse squeaking in fear.
“Because”—he angles in, his lips finding the curve of my ear—“I’m not sure I could survive losing you.”
I close my eyes and grasp the front of his hoodie to keep myself upright.
Falling in love is, without a doubt, the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done. Even if I’m not ready to admit that’s what this is, deep down, I know it. I’m not fully there yet, but I am in the free-fall phase. And even though he’s right here with me, I’m not ready to fully trust he’ll bethere to catch me when I land.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispers against my ear. “If that’s okay.”
I nod, and just in case that’s not good enough, I beg him with a soft, pathetic “please.”
He obliges instantly, his left-hand delving into my hair as he devours me.
I melt at his touch, like butter in a hot pan.
