Page 124 of The Lair

“Because I’m not. My therapist says it’s a childhood thing.”

“I like that you’re going to therapy,” I tell him honestly. “I mean, not many men do. Or women, I suppose. It took me years to book an appointment because I was scared of them judgingme for my past, but my therapist is amazing. Best decision I’ve ever made.”

He grabs another spring roll. “It took me years to take that step too. I started with group therapy.”

“For veterans?”

He nods. “It helped me understand that getting professional help didn’t make me weak. I’ve been with my current therapist for five years. She’s helping me with the whole feelings thing, but it’s a slow process.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you’re doing great. I’m not that good with feelings, either, so I get it.”

“Why not?”

The sky is clear, turning darker as the minutes go by. “Same thing, I suppose—my childhood. My parents would dismiss my feelings, call me dramatic and such.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “I hope you don’t believe that anymore.”

He sounds angry, but I know it’s not at me.

“I’m learning to let it go. Jada and Paul have always helped me a lot with that. With everything, really.”

“You’re close with them,” he observes, sounding calmer.

“Jada knew what I was going through at home and stepped in, even after I graduated from her class. Her husband too. They’ve always had my back.”

“I could tell she really loves you from a phone call alone.”

He passes me the kung pao chicken, and I smirk. “Right. I keep forgetting you’ve become buddies behind my back.”

“She seems like a sensible woman. I like her. Haven’t met her husband, but if he’s good to you, I’ll like him too.”

Conversation is easy throughout dinner. As the night descends upon the city, he tells me about his time in the Navy—he sticks to the more lighthearted stories—and I tell him about my good memories with Jada and Paul. He tells me what it waslike to grow up with Uncle Neil, and I tell him what it was like to live in different parts of the country.

When we’re done cleaning up, Travis gets up and holds out a hand in my direction. “Next surprise?”

I have a feeling I already know what it’ll be. But I only smile at him and accept that the butterflies in my stomach will keep growing the more time I spend around him, and that’s fine by me.

Because Travis feels like the home I never expected to find.

After we throw our empty containers in the trash and take the picnic blanket back to the car, we head for the observatory. Every corner is fascinating, and as we make our way through the different exhibits, I can’t help but ask Travis, whose hand hasn’t left the small of my back since we walked in, “Not that I’m complaining because I’m having fun, but why did you bring me here?”

As we both look up at the giant models of the planets hanging from the ceiling, he tells me, “I’m not sure my uncle even remembers this, and I haven’t told anyone else, but I’m a huge space nerd.”

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Heat climbs up his cheeks. “Not sure anyone’s ever called me cute before.”

“Well, you are.” I get on my tiptoes and press my lips to his bearded cheek because it feels right. “Thank you for bringing me here. For the picnic, and everything else you’re doing for me.”

His hand moves until he’s holding my waist. The intensity of his gaze makes my breathing stop. “I’d do anything for you, Allie.”

My eyes drop to his mouth, and I debate how idiotic it’d be to kiss him right now when we both agreed to take it slow.

“Excuse me?” a shy, feminine voice asks behind us.

Turning, I come face-to-face with two women around my age. “Hi,” I greet them a little nervously.

The two women exchange a quick look before one of them says, “We’re really sorry to bother you. We just wanted to know if you’re Allie Buccieri? From that TV interview?”

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