Page 92 of Crash

“It did mean more than just sex.” His eyes finally met mine, dark with pain. “That’s the problem.”

“He said, as if that sounds clear,” I muttered.

Blake dragged a hand through his hair. “Tess, even if I could get past my issues?—”

“Which I can only assume are some flavor offear of losing me, but I wouldn’t know what those issues are. Being that you won’t open up to me.” A bitterness in my voice crept out.

“Even if I could get past my issues, Ryker is my best friend. I promised him.” His shoulders sagged, as if the weight of that promise physically pressed down on him.

“That’swhat this is about?” I balked, heat rising to my cheeks. How insulting. “We’re grown-ups, Blake. We’re not teenagers anymore.”

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Try me.” I lifted my chin, challenging him.

His expression shifted, and for a moment, I saw the teenager I’d first fallen for years ago.

“Ryker saved me, Tess. When I was drowning, if I didn’t have his friendship, I wouldn’t have had your family. Wouldn’t have met you.” He swallowed hard. “The only thing he ever asked of me was to never date you. I don’t expect you to understand, but that matters to me. I made a commitment to always have his back as he’s had mine. I can’t betray him like that, Tess.”

Something in his voice made me press harder. “That’s not the only thing this is about though, is it?”

He looked away. “I have issues letting myself … love.”

“Why?” The word came out barely above a whisper, hope blooming in my chest that, finally, he might tell me what this was really about. Because, sure, the Ryker thing? I understood. But rejecting a lifetime of happiness without even trying to reason with Ryker? That wasn’t passing my test. Whatever this issue of loving was—that was the biggest issue of all. The rest was just more justification to himself.

“But even if I didn’t have issues, I’m not the stand-up guy you think I am, Tess.”

“I know you have demons or whatever.” My hand twitched with the urge to touch him, to smooth away the crease between his brows. “But you literally save lives every day. How can you still see yourself as a bad guy?”

“I don’t. I accept who I am.” He scrubbed his jaw. “But even if I could get past my issues and even if I could break the only promise I’d ever made to Ryker, you deserve someone better, Tess.”

His words suspended between us, weighing down the air in my lungs, making it harder to breathe.

“You’re fighting this though,” I said, recognizing the torment in his eyes. “I can tell. You’re trying to convince me as much as you’re trying to convince yourself.”

The silence that followed was answer enough. His eyes flickered with concern as he studied my face, changing the subject.

“Walk me through your symptoms today.” His voice shifted to that professional tone, throwing up yet another wall between us.

“Blake.”

“Walk me through them.” His tone was clipped with the unspoken meaning behind them. The one that saidI’m done talking about this.

Would I ever find out the other reasons he was fighting this hard to push me away? I needed to understand because this felt like … like watching everything I ever wanted burning down in front of me, without knowing what started the fire.

My eyes stung, but I bit back the tears. I’d wait until later, when I was back at my home, where I could fall apart in private, where he couldn’t see how thoroughly broken I felt.

“Nausea, stomachache, shallow breathing. I was particularly stressed today though.”

“From the wedding planning?” His voice carried an edge.

“That and … everything else.” I risked a glance up at him. “So, maybe this is just stress.”

Blake dragged a hand through his hair again, mussing it in a way that made him look less like the polished doctor and more like the man who’d devoured me on that terrace.

“Stress can wreak havoc on the human body,” he acknowledged. “But this isn’t stress, Tess. Something’s wrong, and I need you to tell me everything about your day. From the moment you woke up until now.”

“Why?”