Page 167 of Lost Track

“How come you never ask me to come over to your place?”

He tucked her hair back behind one of her ears even as his stomach clenched. She watched him, waiting patiently for an answer. The question must seem so simple to her.

It was not a simple answer.

All previous relationships had been conducted very differently to this one. For starters, he’d never been friends with a woman first. He’d always gone straight from attraction to making out to all the rest.

This thing with Sabine had been slow from the start.

But in a hot way.

With her, he was Dave. It was her world not his. He was still finding out how he fit into her space without taking it over.

It was quiet and safe.

Still, he understood where the question was coming from.

“Would you like to see my place, dimples?” he asked.

“As long as you’re not hiding a secret family or anything, yeah,” she said with a soft laugh.

He licked his lips. Not a secret family. But there were things he didn’t want her to see. His lists and binders and reminders. Things he’d need for the rest of his life just to function.

When they were together in her place, he could ignore the details of his own life. He could pretend that he had everything he needed.

But how long could that have possibly lasted?

Maybe that time was up.

He wished there was a way he could know how she’d react to those things before inviting her over. So he could brace himself. Or prepare for the rejection.

Just the thought of her trying to convince him that he didn’t need the binders made him break out into a cold sweat.

She noticed.

“What’s going on?” she asked softly, her hazel eyes clouding with concern.

He tried to force a smile but he was pretty sure it looked more like a grimace.

“My life…my mind…” He swallowed. It was so damn hard to explain. How do you tell someone you care about that you’re never going to be able to “get over” how your brain is wired? That at his best he was still going to need a certain amount of patience?

“Hey,” she said, calling his attention back to her. “It’s okay. No rush. I love you no matter what.” She pressed a kiss to his lips and then rested her head on his chest, facing the television.

He wrapped his arms around her and focused on the movie. Or tried to.

She loved him.

Was that the first time she’d said it?

He didn’t say it back.

I should say it back.

But she might change her mind when she sees the rest of me.

And then he wouldn’t be able to unsay it.

Was he being fair to her by keeping her away from all his flaws?

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