Page 68 of Average Joe

He dropped my hands and stood, clearly not at ease with my response. “An accident,” he snapped, his tone bitter. “I’m not a bad guy. You can check my records. Not a mark against me.”

“Except one,” I blurted because, shit, I couldn’t help myself sometimes, always on the defense, building those walls.

“Just one,” he mumbled, gathering our trash.

“One big mark.”With a capital M, I left unsaid. I stood and grabbed our empty cups.

“My best friend is a cop.” He headed to the trash can.

I followed. “Yeah. Met Frank. Nice guy.” I knew from experience that not all cops were on the up and up. “Are you trying to convince me of something?”

He held open the dirty lid to the recycle bin while I deposited our paper cups. “I like you, Marley, and don’t want my past to ruin our friendship.”

With that, we headed back to his bike and he helped me with my helmet, not another word shared between us.

* * *

The ride home ended too soon. There hadn’t been enough time to process Joe’s confession, my reaction, or my guilt over the way I’d treated him since we met. Warring emotions had my guts twisted and my head fuzzy. True, my neighbor was an ex-con. But he wasn’t a career criminal like I’d assumed. Joe was not the man I’d accused him of being for the sake of protecting myself.

Still, he’d killed another human being, and taking another’s life had to mess with someone’s psyche, right?

Joe parked in his driveway and walked me to my door, his tension palpable.

Before inserting my key into the lock, I turned and raised my chin to meet his sullen gaze. “Thank you for today. You were right. The ride and the company were exactly what I needed.”

A low groan rose in his throat, his usual swagger gone. My heart bled for him. One hand planted on the door above my head. With the other, he pulled a strand of my hair through his fingers, his gaze tender.

“Please tell me I didn’t scare you away.” Regret laced his voice.

“I’m not scared.” I drew a deep breath. “I appreciate honesty. Even when the truth sucks.”

With a huff, he dropped his arms and gave me space. “The truth sucks, and I wish you didn’t have to know. I wish you could’ve known me before…” He laced his hands behind his head, staring long and hard over my shoulder before focusing on me once again. “Just before.” He waited for me to respond.

But words failed to form.Instead, pain lanced my chest. I’d given the man every reason to fear telling me his truth.

Joe wasn’t the dangerous soul in our friendship. I was.

Tucking his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, he shrugged. “I like you, Marley, and I want the chance to get to know you better.”

Cue the weak knees and sweaty palms. And, suddenly, I needed to protect Joe. From me. From my bitter, broken heart.

“Joe. I’m not good at…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, my racing heart at odds with my common sense.

“Relationships,” he stated, no judgment in his tone.

“Getting close to people,” I corrected him, the words sour on my tongue.

Joe stared for a long moment before settling back on his heels and crossing his arms. “You have no problem getting close to people. I’ve seen you with your friends. Letting them in is where your trouble lies.”

Unsettling how well he knew me. I nodded because he wasn’t wrong.

Finally, he shortened the distance between us. “How doIget in? Tell me what I need to do.”

Damn my traitorous heart. The man had already burrowed halfway through my wall.I couldn’t afford to give him all of me. But I was tired of pushing him away. I liked him too much.

The porch light flickered above us, drawing my attention away from his heated gaze. A moth bounced around the bulb, casting a large shadow. I wasn’t brave enough to face Joe when I said, “Okay. You have needs. I have needs.” What was I doing? “How about we help each other out with those needs?”

Joe laughed. “Fucking.”

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