Page 77 of All Her Broken Pieces

“I’m an asshole,” I groan as I cover my face with my hands.

“You’re not an asshole,” he says as he pulls me into a hug. “I don’t know what you’ve gone through in past relationships that would make you so quickly jump to the worst possible conclusion, but I’m not and have never been, never will be, a cheater.”

His arms leave my waist and cup my cheeks, and the voices screaming at me to run start to quiet in my head. But I won’t give him this piece of my past. I can’t. My pain is my baggage to carry, my cross to bear.

“It’s clear you’ve been through some shit, and I’m not going to force you to talk about it. I get how that looked back there, and I can see it clearly triggered a trauma response in you. Your flight response kicked in so quickly that I almost didn’t catch you. And I’m sorry that I raised my voice, but I didn’t know how else to get you to stop.”

My cheeks burn as his words pierce me. How does he see me? How is he able to read me so clearly? Why did my brain spiral to the worst possible conclusion without even giving him a chance to explain?

How the fuck did he get past all my walls and implant himself in my heart?

We stand there for several awkward minutes, him still holding me, his hand firmly clasped around my back as I listen to the rapid beating of his heart against his chest. I can’t even remember if I responded to him, but relief fills me when it’s clear he won’t force me to share anything more with him than I’m willing to right now.

When my breathing returns to normal, and my heartbeat finally starts to even out, matching his rhythm, I look up into his eyes.

“Hey, hellcat.” He smiles down at me, his dimple popping as he leans down to press a kiss to my forehead.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop my spiraling thoughts.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, but I’d love to know more if you’re ever willing to share.” He pulls me against him as we walk back the way we came.

“Wh-where are we going?” I stutter out.

“Back to the restaurant. I kind of left quickly, and I need to get back before my mom thinks I skipped out on her.”

My legs lock, and I stop walking. “I can’t go back there. This is so embarrassing. What is she going to think of me?”

“Nothing. She didn’t see you, and I highly doubt her brain went where yours did because those thoughts didn’t cross my mind either.”

“I don’t know.”

He steps in close, his cool, crisp scent enveloping me. “If you’re up for it, I’d love for you to meet my mom.”

“What would we even tell her? You ran off chasing after me. She’ll think I’ve lost my mind.”

“We can say you didn’t hear me because you had your earbuds in. You traveled quite a distance, and it’s unlikely she knows what’s happening, only that I ran after someone I knew.”

“What about the fact that she and I look to be similar in age?”

“She already knows how old you are.”

“How does she know that?”

“Because I told her. Months ago.”

“What? Why? We weren’t even dating then.”

“We talk once a week, at least, and she stops by the restaurant when she’s in the area. Since I took time off to help you, I let her know why I wouldn’t be at the restaurant as much. And your age doesn’t matter to her. She’s just thrilled that I’m happy. And you make me happy.”

“Oh.”

“Also, can we circle back to that dating comment?” He flashes me a boyish grin.

I playfully shove his side, but he pulls me in closer, kissing my temple.

“It’s ok. I won’t tell anyone you like me,” he says as he squeezes my shoulder. “Seriously, though, I’d love for you to meet my mom. She’s kind of been dying to meet you. I didn’t want to overwhelm you if you weren’t ready.”

Am I ready? That’s kind of a big step in a relationship. One I’ve only done one other time. But high school boyfriends don’t count, right? I mean, I had to meet his parents since they drove us around on our dates before we got our licenses.

---