Page 24 of Fastlander Phoenix

“Great. You can ride with me to drop your car at the junkyard. They’ll want you to sign some paperwork on it.”

“Oh, okay.” She pursed her lips against the question she really wanted to ask.

Now it was his turn. “What?”

“Are you only asking me to go because of the paperwork?”

He sighed. “You’re already being needy.”

“Red flag for you? Women needing answers and wanting to know where they stand? Directness makes you uncomfortable?”

He’d grown a wicked glint to his eyes as she was talking, and when she finished, he lifted his chin higher into the air. “I like your directness, actually. As long as you are okay with direct answers back.”

She inhaled deeply, splayed her legs in a power stance, and nodded. “Okay, hit me with it. I’m ready.”

“I’m not looking for anything. I’m not in a position to pay attention to a woman, and my life is complicated as hell right now. It’s not even safe for you to feel interested in me.”

“Then why did you bring me flowers? And why the green flames? And why did you show up here today making sure I was taken care of?”

“Maybe it’s guilt,” he murmured, and now there was no trace of a smile on his face. His expression was slowly turning cold.

She hated it.

“Why are you here?” she asked softly. “Man up and be honest.”

His eyebrows arched up. “Man up?”

“Yeah. I don’t like the beating-around-the-bush stuff. I don’t want to guess at your half-truths. Why are you here?”

He puffed air out of his cheeks and looked around, then gave a little salute and told her, “I’ll see you around, Timber.”

“Aaah,” she said softly as he walked toward the driver’s side of his truck. “You’re a runner.”

“I don’t run,” he said, turning around. “I’m not scared of anything, so why would I want to run?”

“You are scared,” she said, knowing she was pushing him too far, too fast, but unable to help herself. “You’re scared of yourself, aren’t you?”

He chewed the corner of his lip and glared at her car on the trailer. “If I argue, you’ll say I’m being too defensive. Is this how you argue? You bottleneck a conversation until the other person has to say whatever you want them to say?”

She felt slapped. Actually…actually, that sounded fair. She took a few seconds to think on it, and then nodded. “I think you might be right. I have had problems with that before. I’m a therapist, and sometimes it’s hard to stop analyzing a person’s feelings and motives. It’s not fair to do that to you. You’re not a client. You are my friend.”

“Friend,” he repeated suspiciously.

“Sure. Yeah. I would say you are being an amazing friend by doing me this huge favor and taking care of my car. You don’t owe me anything, and you don’t owe me explanations on what is driving you. I want to know where I stand, but you don’t want to tell me where I stand. How do I have more of a right to get what I want than you do? I don’t.”

He was standing there listening, eyes narrowed. “Is this a trick? A woman trick?”

“No trick. You got me. I’ll think about what you said tonight while I’m getting ready for bed, and will probably still be checking myself tomorrow.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said low.

“I might’ve. I bottleneck arguments? I can already remember several conversations with people that supports that.”

“So you’re just…you’re going to stop arguing?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry if I was too aggressive. It’s something I need to work on.”

He took a step back, and then another, narrowed eyes on her. He cleared his throat and said, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Seriously. You don’t have to apologize. I am not scared of myself, but I am scared of what I’m capable of.” He chewed the corner of his lip, lowered his chin, and looked at her with softening eyes. “You almost nailed it. I don’t like people getting too close. Plus, I’m on the tail end of a ridiculous week with my Crew. They’re all pushing for some let’s-all-love-each-other bullshit, and I’m worn out. I came here…” He blew out a breath and rested his hands on his hips. “I came here because I guess you feel like a nice distraction from the hard stuff that is going on.”

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