Dances with Monsters(41)

At any rate, he made her feel comfortable in a way she hadn't felt around the opposite sex in some time. She'd had boyfriends before, but only one really serious relationship that had ended shortly after graduating college. Then, last year's event had happened, and she had become a shell of her former self. Heath was the first guy outside of her family that she'd been able to look in the face, talk to, open up a little bit to, since she had gone through what she'd gone through. She hoped she wasn't being naïve as Bunz had mentioned, but in a completely different way. Her instincts told her that she was safe, but she wasn't sure if she could trust it completely. She wasn't even sure she could or did trust Heath. Certainly not completely. But she knew she wanted to. He had pulled her ass out of the fire on a couple of different occasions and while they might not have seemed like a big deal to him, to her, they meant more than she could put into words. She knew he had troubles of his own, or had had troubles of his own. She had watched him on TV like many other people had, and he had always seemed so angry—the way he tore out of the ring after winning fight after fight, how he never gave interviews, how he never walked out to any music. How he never looked into the camera when it was in his face. He still had that dangerous edge she'd recognized in him then, but that deep-seated anger seemed to be gone. She wondered what had caused the anger in the first place, although him ending up in battle against his own brother might have had something to do with it. And she wondered how he had gotten past it. She assumed therapy must have played some sort of role.

Therapy. The thought made her sigh. She had been to therapy in New York. She had given it her all, she really had, but it hadn't helped her. Granted, maybe it was her therapist; she hadn't been very impressed with the man and the fact that he had been a man hadn't really helped him gain favor with her in that time. After ten sessions he'd all but deemed her a lost cause, and she'd given up on herself. She could no longer face the city, her home, with the same enthusiasm she'd been born with. Eventually, her parents had decided a move and reconnecting the family would be the best thing for her. She knew she'd made some improvements as a result of the move, but she wasn't where she personally thought she should be. Perhaps she should look into therapy here.

As the bus jounced along, she fell deeper into her thoughts. She was self-aware enough to realize that fear of the unknown and her inability to really trust anyone were probably her two greatest issues. She didn't know how to help the former. The latter, though, would require a leap of faith. She had to start somewhere. As she considered it, an idea began to germinate in her brain that she mulled over repeatedly the way a dog worried a bone. She almost felt a panic attack at the idea, but she shook it off.

Leap of faith, she thought to herself, and picked up her phone. She typed the message out before her bravery could dissipate.

Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow? Maybe watch a movie?

Her fingers trembled as she hit the button to send the message and she immediately dropped the phone back into her lap, her fingers coming up to her temple as she squeezed her eyes shut. "What did you just do?" she mumbled to herself. She knew that for most people, this was a simple, common, ordinary exercise. People texted their friends all the time with dinner invitations. It was perfectly normal. And besides that, Heath had shown her kindness in ways she hadn't expected from anyone outside her family when they had barely known each other, and she felt an urge to do something nice for him in return.

But your own home? the frightened, rational part of her brain screamed. What's wrong with a restaurant? Her pulse picked up, and she felt anxiety climb up her throat.

Leap of faith, a quieter, stronger voice reminded her, and she took a couple of deep breaths. On the tail end of that thought, she wondered irrationally what the hell was taking him so long to reply.

A few moments later, her phone buzzed and although she hated herself for it, she scrambled to quickly snatch her phone into her hand to read the message.

Sure. Sounds good.

She exhaled a breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding, and felt a confusing mixture of excitement, anticipation, and sheer, utter panic. Her hand moved toward her bag where her meds were stashed, but she pulled her hand back before she caught the zipper.

"Leap of fucking faith," she muttered out loud to herself.

***

"B, I can't do this," Drew said frantically the next evening. They were closing, and she had exactly one and a half hours until Heath was supposed to arrive at her apartment. "I think I have to cancel."

"Well, you're not going to do that, obviously," Bunz said calmly. "Just relax! I'm proud of you."