Page 60 of The Girl He Loves

I open one eye and peek at Dax. He’s smiling at me.

He says, “I know that. This isn’t the fifties. First, we get the results, and we go from there. Either way, lots of paths to take.” He shrugs one shoulder then resumes his pencil scratching.

I’m oddly disappointed. Did I want him to say we’d run off and get married and live happily ever after? Because the practical side of me says that’s ridiculous. The logistics alone, where I want to work and where I live and Dax’s uncharted path, likely won’t align. Who knows where he’ll end up?

But this isn’t about being practical. This is about so much more than that. The thought of not having to go at this life alone has ginormous appeal. Having Dax to share the day-to-day and shoulder some of the burdens would be like winning the lottery. Only better.

Over the small number of days he’s been here, I’ve fantasized about having him around longer. About him fixing things that break and protecting me from all the bad things life will doubtless throw at me.

How selfish does that sound?

I’ve gone and done exactly what I said I didn’t want to do. Everything I fought against has happened. I’ve come to depend on Dax. I want to be rescued by Dax.

Yeah, I’m exhausted and scared after finding out what Justin’s been doing. I don’t feel safe or protected. Maybe that’s why I no longer want to go at this alone. When I’m with Dax, he makes me feel both safe and protected.

I glance at Dax, who is looking down his leg into his cast, one eye open as he maneuvers the pencil like NASA did with the Mars Rover, with fierce intention and purpose.

Dear Lord. What am I doing? Eventually, Dax will not be staying here. He’ll get a boot for his leg, and the freedom that comes with that. And even if we find out he's Tyler’s father and he lives right next door, he won’t be here and I’ll feel his absence on a grand scale.

Damn. Being a single mom takes a whole lot of energy and willpower.

I glance up at the ceiling in an effort to fight back tears. Scared that I’ll not have the strength I’ve used in the past to get me through. Afraid that having Dax’s help has spoiled me, only to make everything else from here on harder.

“What else did you want to talk about?” Dax asks, eyes on his cast.

I have to get out of here. I need to think this out without him nearby. His stupid beefcake-man sexiness is too distracting. Makes logical thought impossible.

I leap from the bed, feeling the familiar heat flush across my chest. I’ll be red from chest to cheeks in seconds. And how would I explain that to Dax?

Do I admit my fears to him? That I’m afraid I might be using him to carry my heavy load? Do I confess I want Tyler to be his so he’ll stay forever? Or maybe I get angry and say having him in my life makes me a more dependent person and that scares me? Thinking these things is hard enough. Saying them will be impossible.

I grab my robe and hold it to my chest. “Yeah, I’m good. I think I’ll take a shower.”

He glances at me. “Really? Right now? It’s”—he glances at the clock—“midnight.”

I nod vigorously. “Yep. I feel very out of sync about all this, and I think if I take a shower, it’ll make me feel better.”

He stops his quest to scratch the nonstop itch and studies me. “Are you okay?”

I keep nodding like a bobblehead, not looking at him, but at my escape route.

“Heather?”

“Yep, I’m good.” Eyes on the hallway, I rush to the door, only to catch my hip on the corner of my bed’s wood footboard, throwing me slightly to the side so that I bounce into the wall.

I glance over my shoulder and grimace. I have his full attention. I say, “I’m good. Real good. So good. Sooo gooood.” I stumble toward the bedroom door.

“Yeah, I can see you’re good.” The skepticism in his voice indicates he doesn’t believe me.

I spin, robe clutched to my chest, and face him as I backpedal out the door. “So, so good. Fine.” And stupid, because I can’t think of anything else to say. I close the door behind me and nearly collapse against the wall. But I know Dax. He’ll follow me. I waste no time escaping into the bathroom where I lock the door behind me. Instead of a shower, I draw a bath and sink into the warm water.

I have no idea where to go from here.

---