Page 60 of The Meaning Of You

He unplugged the light, returned it to the drawer, and pushed the passport my way. “You’ll be needing this.” He got to his feet and started toward the door.

“Madigan, wait.” I grabbed his wrist and he came to a reluctant stop.

His gaze dropped to my hand and I released his arm and stepped back. “I’m sorry.” I ran my clammy hands down my jeans. “I don’t know why I said that.”

Madigan watched me closely, those clever green eyes making me squirm. “I don’t believe you.”

I didn’t blame him. “That doesn’t make it untrue.”

He watched me a few seconds longer, then his shoulders slumped and he stared up at the ceiling for what felt like an age. Eventually he looked back to me. “I want to be your friend, Nick, but you’re not making it easy.” He hesitated, like he was choosing his words carefully. “You might be here of your own volition, but it feels like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

I flinched, shocked that he’d seen through my bullshit so easily. A pit formed in my stomach. I felt raw and seen in a way I hadn’t for a long time.

“That’s not true... well, not entirely,” I admitted. “Idowant to be here, Madigan, but I... I can’t... it seems like whenever we’re in the same room you...” I scrunched my eyes shut and dragged both hands down my face. “Dammit, I’m fucking this up.”

The studio fell quiet bar the muted sound of cicadas singing somewhere in the evening heat. Somewhere I’d rather be. Anywhere but with Madigan Church.

Madigan tapped his socked foot against my calf and I opened my eyes. He smiled gently. The kind of smile that wrapped around your heart like cotton wool. The kind that promised you a soft place to fall if only you’d take a chance.

Trouble was, I didn’t know if I could. I didn’t know if I was ready. I didn’t know if I was capable of more than grief and anger. In that moment or ever again.

The smile faded and Madigan extended his hand, palm up. I stared at it for a long moment, then slid mine atop his, revelling in the way his warm fingers closed loosely around mine.

“I get that you’re grieving,” he said softly, pulling me closer. “And I totally understand that you’re all over the place emotionally. But I’m not twisting your arm to be in this friendship, Nick, if that’s even what this is. You only have to say it’s not what you want and we can stop it right now. I’ll miss your company, but I don’t want a friendship that feels like I’m on retainer, ignored most of the time unless you need something from me or have nowhere else to go, like today. You’re only here because you think Davis was having an affair and I’m neutral ground.” He arched a brow and waited.

Heat rushed into my cheeks because he was right about everything except the neutral part. Madigan was anything but neutral ground for me. I nodded reluctantly. “I’m sorry.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Well, at least you’re honest. And to be fair, it normally wouldn’t bother me. But this friendship with you, it’s—” He trailed off, and as I watched him struggle for the right words, I suddenly understood. The puzzle pieces clicked and I knew. I knew he felt it too. This strange thing between us. It wasn’t only me.

“Complicated?” I offered.

Madigan froze, his gaze intent upon my face. “Yes, Nick. It’s fair to say it’s... complicated.” He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.

I sighed and the words just came. “Yeah, for me too.” I squeezed his hand before pulling free of his grip and tucking both hands in my pockets.

He took a step back, his eyes not once leaving mine. “Is it really?” A challenge more than a question. A challenge I was surprisingly prepared to accept.

“Yes.” I pinned him with an equally intent look. “More than you realise.”

He swallowed hard, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. Then he drew a breath. “And?”

And there it was. The door I’d been standing outside for months. “Andyou confuse me, Madigan,” I answered as honestly as I could. “This whole thing—” I waved a hand between us. “—confuses me. I’m a mess, as you’re no doubt aware. Too much of a mess to feel safe about takingthatkind of step. Especially now, with all this going on. I’m angry and hurt and it would be so easy to?—”

“I wouldn’t let you,” he broke in, his eyes flashing with annoyance. “For all those same reasons you mentioned. I don’t want to be a refuge or a Band-Aid. I’m simply wanting to know if I should walk away.”

Should he?It was a valid question, the bluntness of which was so very Madigan, I almost smiled. A direct hit in a circuitous conversation of insinuation and allusion that we somehow both understood.

I didn’t answer straight away. He was offering me an out, a solution to the back and forth I’d been doing in my head since New Year. Since I first realised he’d somehow slipped under my skin to become my go-to person in a crisis. Guilt about Davis had stayed my hand back then. Disappointment and hurt stayed it now. I studied this man who I’d done nothing more than hold hands with and marvelled how the question had even come about.

“I can’t promiseanything,” I managed in a whisper-thin voice. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. I don’t even know if I want to. So, for your sake, maybe it is better if you walk away.”

His challenging gaze burrowed into mine. “Doyouwant me to?”

A groan escaped my lips and my attention slid from him to the floor. “Why are you doing this? I’m not worth it. That’s not?—”

“Do you, Nick?” he snapped. “Doyouwant me to walk away from whatever this is? Yes or no.”

My gaze snapped up, my answer out before I could stop it. “No.” The force of the word circled the studio like a summoning. “No, I don’t. Although I’m not sure that’s the best thing for either of us.”

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