Holt sat on his couch, watching Steven carefully, and rubbed his chin. He hadn’t moved from his position at all, and Steven felt like he was in some kind of parallel universe where nothing made sense at all, and everything was fucked up. A steaming cup of coffee sat in front of him, half empty. Steven’s was untouched. Lydia was still asleep in their bedroom. “Why not? And what, exactly, happened?”
“Dude.” Steven stopped in front of him and crossed his arms. He still wore his clothes from last night. “What the fuck do you think happened? We braided each other’s hair and talked about our dreams and desires while bonding over ice cream?”
Holt snorted, took his glasses off, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, but how far did it go? Kissing? Groping? Fucking?”
“We—had sex.” Steven resumed pacing, biting back anything else he might say. He refused to call it fucking. It had been more than that. But it wasn’t lovemaking, either. “And afterward, she immediately told me to stop looking at her as if anything changed, that we were the same as we were, and I needed to accept that. Like she already filed me in the past and moved on the second I let go of her. Which, normally I like, but with her, I didn’t. I’m not sure why.”
“I’ve got a few ideas,” Holt said. His forehead wrinkled up and he pushed his glasses back into place. “So she wants it to be a one-time thing.”
“Apparently.” Steven picked up his coffee and took a big sip. “She was quite clear about that.”
Holt blinked. “And you…don’t?”
The shock in his friend’s voice was not lost on Steven. He couldn’t believe it, either. “No.” He rubbed his face and let out a long breath. “But that doesn’t change a damn thing. I can’t be with her.”
“Why not?” Holt asked, watching him with shrewd blue eyes. “You’re single. She’s single. What’s holding you back?”
Steven refused to admit the real reason—that he wasn’t good enough for a girl like Lauren. He had nightmares. Hated crowds. He never stopped looking over his shoulder for the next attack, even though he’d been out of the war zone for over a year now, and probably never would. And even now, to this day, he felt like a piece of him had died over there in that desert with the rest of his platoon.
The piece that deserved to be happy.
“I’m me, and she’s her,” he said, his jaw tight. “That’s all the reason I need.”
“I don’t understand.”
Steven rolled his eyes. “Have you met me? I don’t do relationships. And the one time I did—”
“She cheated on you, and then broke up with you because you didn’t ‘love’ her,” Holt said drily. “I was there, too. It was a year ago.”
It was true. He hadn’t loved her. And he was pretty damn certain that the part of him that was capable of that emotion had been the part he’d lost overseas, sometime between his tenth kill and his last. In a warzone, after so many losses and deaths, you became immune to emotion.
Or, at least, he had.
“And she was right,” Steven said, ignoring the sarcasm in Holt’s comment. He set the mug down again, and paced. “I don’t think I’ll ever love a woman the way they want to be loved, and I refuse to do that to Lauren. She deserves more.”
So damn much more.
“So maybe you could be more?” Holt said, shrugging. “Ever thought of that?”
Steven stared at him, completely taken aback.
He hadn’t even really entertained the notion that he could change. That he didn’t have to be the guy who didn’t get the girl anymore. Rubbing his face with both hands, he explored his options. There was the obvious one. He could continue on as he’d been, pretending he didn’t crave her as much as a drug addict did his next hit. Keep his distance and his soul intact…or as intact as it could be, anyway.
It’s what he did best, after all.
Keeping a distance.
Or he could man up and fight for her, even though he wasn’t sure what exactly it was that he fought for. He wasn’t looking for an actual relationship with her…was he? Sure, it’s what she deserved. But could he do that?
He wasn’t so sure.
The one time he tried to fit into a box, and be a real boyfriend with Rachel, had been a disaster. He’d been a shitty boyfriend to Rachel, and he’d probably be an even shittier one to Lauren.
If he screwed everything up, he could lose her. That was what scared him, more so than the idea of him doing nothing did. Losing her would kill him.
He already accepted he wasn’t good enough for her, and never would be. But he could try to be better. To do better. For her. All she had to do was ask…