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She paused because everything inside of her brain was screaming at her to shut up. Why was she giving up all her secrets? All the things she only allowed herself to think about in the middle of the night? Why was she giving him that kind of power?

But underneath all that fear was an easing. She didn’t feel like there was the same weight on her chest.

“I’m attracted to you. I didn’t and don’t know what to do with that. It has been knee jerk sometimes to revert to that armor. The role of therapist. I think you’re the only one in my life who noticed or who it bothered, I guess.”

He stood there like a statue. Blank faced and still, so very still. In her kitchen. As though he belonged there.

But he didn’t. Truths didn’t make someone belong. Being vulnerable didn’t change the world. But it was good for the soul and for the mental health, so she’d go with that.

She fixed him with her therapist smile before she realized she was doing it. Then she shook her head. No blank, placid smiles. Though God knew what she was supposed to do with her face. But it didn’t matter. She’d said her piece.

She nodded firmly then. “So, if you want to clear the air, you weren’t wrong. I’m not sure you were one hundred percent right, but you weren’t wrong. I pull out the ‘shrink’ stuff when I need to, when it suits me, when it might create a barrier between what I’m feeling and the person I’m feeling it toward.”

She didn’t know how long they stood there with only the strands of “Blue Christmas” in the background, Gabe not moving, and her a little scared to.

Finally,finallyhe inhaled with enough force for her to see the action move through his body. He cleared his throat. “I don’t have PTSD,” he said. Firm and clear. Just…said it.

“W-what?”

“I do not suffer from PTSD,” he said, decisive and certain.

She softened a little bit at that. “I know you want to believe that you’re strong enough to—”

“Monica.” He stepped forward, curling his fingers around her upper arms. It wasn’t a tight grip, but it stilled her nonetheless. “Listen to me. I don’t have PTSD. I let the guys think I do because it makes them feel better, but I don’t have any of the symptoms. No nightmares, no shakes. None of the anxiety or depression or difficulty sleeping. There isn’t one symptom that I have with any sort of regularity.”

She tried to work through that. He let the guys think… “You let them think that because you think it makes them feel better?”

He released her arms, turning away. There’d been some flicker of emotion on his face, but he made sure to hide it. “No one wants to be the only guy who’s dealing with something. No one wants to be left out, even if the group is a shitty group to belong to.”

Something inside her chest cracked, hard and painful. She reached out even though his back was to her. She pressed her fingers to his shoulder. “But you are left out. You are the only guy.”

So much crystalized for her in that moment. The things Becca had said about Gabe being the nicest to her, but the one she knew the least about. Gabe kept himself separate, and oh, the man was lonely. But he seemed to think he needed to be. He didn’t seem to know hownotto be.

It near broke her heart.

But he stepped away from her hand, and when he faced her again, he was all stoic blankness. “I appreciate you explaining all that to me,” he said, gesturing toward the stove as ifall thatencompassed all she’d discussed. “So I wanted to make it clear I don’t need that kind of help anyway. Maybe that’s why I’m touchy about it.”

She smiled sadly. “I wish I could believe that, but you don’t build that kind of righteous fury without incident, Gabe. Something else about therapy or therapists eats at you.”

His mouth went hard. She didn’t want to turn this into a fight though, so she didn’t let the smile fade off her face. “But you don’t have to tell me. It’s not pertinent. Hopefully explaining my stuff to you will make it easier for us to navigate each other.”

“Navigate each other,” he echoed, his gaze dropping to her mouth, then lower, as if slowly drinking every last inch of her in.

Suddenly,navigateseemed to take on all new meaning. And, oh, wouldn’t that be nice? She let her gaze take the same tour of Gabe that his was taking of her.

Way more than nice.

“I should go,” he said, his voice sounding suspiciously…strangled.

She swallowed, reminding herself she was an adult. An adult who got to choose. An adult who could, in fact, make a few mistakes here and there, most especially when her son was out of town and she hadn’t had sex in something like a decade.

“Or you could stay,” she squeaked.

Chapter 14

Gabe knew he’d heard her exactly right. No matter that her voice had cracked, no matter that she looked like a panicked bird, he knew exactly what she had said.

Much more than that, he understood that she meant it. It was certainly no secret at this point that they wanted each other. The problem was in the complications. Unfortunately, when it came to complications, he couldn’t let his dick lead.