Page 24

How can I make him understand?

Because that scares me, too, the idea of belonging to anyone.

“What happens when caring for me turns into thinking you know what’s best for me?” I ask. “Or what happens when you… I don’t know. Get bored with me, realize I’m not what you wanted after all?”

Elias’s eyes are soft, but somehow also impossibly knowing, like he could reach in and see every single secret I’ve kept tucked away.

“You pose hypotheticals without even knowing me, little siren.”

“Little… siren?”

Those blue eyes darken nearly to black. “Yes, little siren. You’re the temptation designed just for me, the lure keyed to my blood, the song beckoning me toward the shore.”

“Into the rocks, you mean,” I whisper, drawing on the scant mythology knowledge I possess.

“And I will crash gladly, Nora.” His words are a low, dark caress, and when I don’t flinch away from them, he leans closer and curls his hand around my jaw. “I’d smash myself to bits for you. I’d let myself be drawn to you, a thousand times and a thousand more, even if it meant my ruin.”

“You don’t mean that.”

How could he? He doesn’t evenknowme. He doesn’t know all the ways I’m damaged, all the reasons it’s so hard for me to trust him. To trust anyone, really.

“Don’t I?” he asks. “And how would you know that?”

“Because I… I’m not…”

The hand curled around my cheek moves to the back of my neck, stroking lightly, fingers threading into my hair to grasp gently and tilt my face up.

Is he going to kiss me?

I’m half-convinced he is, but he only holds my gaze and strokes his thumb over and over the nape of my neck.

“Whatever you were about to say,” Elias murmurs, “I would ask that you never make any assumptions about how I see you and what I feel for you, little siren.”

“How do you see me?”

Another stroke of his thumb, a pulse of gentle pressure that has me leaning closer to him.

“I see a woman who’s strong and resilient. I see a woman who’s braver than she might give herself credit for. I see you, Nora.”

Without giving myself time to second guess, I lean in and lay my cheek against the soft fabric of his sweater. His breath catches for a moment, then leaves his chest in a long exhale when he brings his other hand to the center of my back and rubs in slow, soothing circles.

He must know. If not all of it… then at least some. Otherwise, how could he ever make that assumption? He doesn’t know me, shouldn’t be saying things like this, not so soon.

When I lean back and look into his eyes, it’s gentle patience and sincerity looking back at me.

“We may have lived different lives,” he says. “And we may not know much about each other yet, but all I would ask you for is time. And openness, if you’re willing to allow it. Enough for us to give this a chance.”

The request is… simple. And terrifying. Time and openness. Sharing things about myself that part of me would rather keep hidden forever.

“I… can try.” It’s as much as I can offer right now.

“That’s all I need.” With what appears to be a great deal of effort, Elias removes his hands from me and takes a step back, glancing once at his watch. “I’m afraid it’s time for us to leave. I promised Denise we wouldn’t impose on the aquarium’s hospitality for too long.”

Though it makes me a coward, I’m glad for the reprieve. I’m glad to have Elias tuck my arm back in his and lead me from the domed room back to the main entrance. I’m glad for the cool night air on my face, and the chance to hide from myself for just a little longer.

Still, with a handsome kraken on my arm and the earlier promise of the evening now dimmed, I can’t help but be disappointed in myself, too.

Was it only a couple hours ago I felt excited for this date, hopeful, ready to take a step forward after so many years of standing still? How did I get from there to here, when Elias has been nothing but patient and understanding, careful with me, so willing to take everything at my own pace?