Page 70 of Finding Fate

My next words are out before I can stop them. "You have a girlfriend."

Those brown eyes flick to me. "I did."

"Did?"

"Did."

"What happened?"

"Later, Pops. Now come eat."

Not yet. Flipping to the middle of one of the gifted books, I press my nose into the pages and inhale. Again and again I breathe in the new book smell until the shaking of my hands causes it to slip from my grip and thud to the floor. Covering my face with my hands, I sob so hard, but not a single sound escapes. My shoulders tremble with each deep breath in.

I barely register being lifted and set on the couch. Warm hands pull mine from my face to engulf them in his own.

"I know," he whispers across from me, the grip on my hands nearly cutting off the circulation to my fingers. "Believe me when I say I know. Dammit, I know, and I'm sorry you have to go through it. But you have to come back to us, Fate. You're home. You're safe. I know it's difficult, but you have to try. Talk to me."

My shoulders shake again with a loud sob. "I'm not safe. You don’t get it. And you're not either. I'll never be safe again."

"I'd die before letting anything happen to you."

"Don't you see." I sniffle, looking up to meet his intense stare. "You already died once," I whisper, then wipe my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie. "I don't want you to do it again."

"Good thing it's not your choice. Can I... yesterday... I want to hold you."

No. Even without a girlfriend, I still can't have him, and his touch will shatter the resolve I have to not get involved. Instead of saying yes—hell yes—like I want, my gaze drops to our hands and I shake my head. To his credit, the only sign he gives of disappointment is the tightening of his hands around mine.

"The first few days are the hardest. The acclimating to being back. It’ll take time, so don't rush it. But don't be scared of it either." With a pat on my clasped hands, he stands but doesn't move. "Why are you scared of me?" The hurt in his voice creates a crack the size of the Grand Canyon in my heart.

"Later," I say with a smile, which he returns, as forced as it is.

Leaving the books behind, I sit on the stool in front of the full plate of eggs, pancakes, and bacon. My eyes shutter closed at the first bite, and I savor each forkful. It's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. And oh, the bacon. I don't hide the tears of joy that build at the crispy bites of heaven on earth.

Silence settles as we eat until I can't take it anymore.

"This is delicious. Thank you," I say between bites.

A shy smile pulls at his lips. "Thanks."

"Is this your place?"

"Nope. My boss is letting me stay here for a bit. My place is about an hour away."

I can't help but ask, because why else would a guy like him have pancake mix lying around? "I'm surprised at the pancakes," I say, looking up from my plate to meet his questioning stare. "Did you really have the mix, or am I not the first morning guest you've had here?"

Those soft brown eyes flick to the living room while he finishes chewing, too slowly not to be obvious. "Two-part answer to that one. Yes, I already had pancake mix. Breakfast is my favorite meal, and it's really the only thing I can cook. And the second part, well, you're the first morning guest who I don't want to leave."

When his eyes flick back to me, I look down to my plate and move pieces of leftover eggs around. "None of my business, I guess," I mutter and shove a piece of bacon into my mouth, which now tastes less fantastic and a little dry. I gulp down the orange juice to get the last bits down my dry throat.

"Listen—"

"You don't need to explain. I shouldn't—"

"Everyone who's been through this house has been here to keep me from losing my fucking mind." Peering up through my lashes, I find him staring at his own plate, shoulders rounded. "Your buddy Mac being one of them. I didn't want them here seeing me like that, especially my sister. So every day, I begged them to leave, but they didn't. They stayed. Are you mad? Is that why you won't let me touch you?"

"Mad?" I repeat, truly shocked. "Why would I be mad?"

"Because I was here living in this house, safe and with people who helped me get through it all, while you were... wherever you were that you won't tell me. It's okay if you are. I get it. I was so damn angry with the guys when I came to, angry that they waited so long. Angry that they didn't get you too. Just so damn angry. Still am. Well, until yesterday."

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