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Tragic. She was so tragically wounded. So tragically guarded.

So tragically fragile . . .

So tragically beautiful.

“No.” I finally said as we walked through the front door and into the warmth of the condo I shared with this tragic woman.

“What?”

“No.” I repeated. “That wasn’t enough, Amara.”

“Tough shit, Beckett,” she kicked off her boots. “You’re not getting anything more from me.”

I caught her arm already knowing that I was most likely crossing some unseen line she’d drawn, and tugged. When she turned to face me, her face was a mask of fear beneath an armor of ice.

I wanted to release her, but I didn’t. I forced my hand to remain where it was locked gently around her arm, and released the words I needed to say.

“I won’t hurt you, Amara. I would never hurt you.

And you might think that you’re unwanted, but I want you.

Even if all you ever give me is friendship, I want it.

You might think you’re not funny because you don’t laugh or smile even though I fucking wish, more than anything in this world, you would, but you are.

You make me laugh more often and harder than anyone else I’ve ever met.

You’ve got a sourpuss scowl that cracks me up every time, like it or not. ”

She’s not even breathing. And her eyes, so beautifully blue, are wide and round.

“You might think that you’re not smart enough, but I don’t know another woman who is smart enough to keep up with me.

You reply to my every quip with a quick lash of your lovely tongue.

” I think that in any moment, she might crumble.

“You might think you’re not beautiful enough, but there is no other woman I’ve ever looked at that is as beautiful as you.

Your eyes, they are so big and blue I could get lost in them.

Your lips are the perfect shade of pink and your hair,” I shook my head, nearly at a loss for words.

“You’re beautiful, Amara. Outside and in.

And you might think you’re not loveable, but you are.

” My voice is deep and low when I repeat, “You have no idea how loveable you are.”

She has no control of the renegade tear that dives from her long lashes to sweep down her cheek. Cocking my head, I released her arm to catch the salty orb with my thumb.

When she didn’t reply, I proposed, “How about you go get into your pajamas, I’ll get into mine, and we meet back here? We’ll gorge on Chinese food and watch movies until we can’t keep our eyes open. Sound good?”

“Sounds . . .” she caught her breath. “So good.”

I couldn’t have torn my eyes from the woman as she walked to the hall if my life had depended on it.

I didn’t know I had it in me to be the man I was these past few minutes.

I didn’t know I had it in me to be the man she clearly needed.

But now that I did, I couldn’t imagine I’d be a man who was worth anything if I didn’t give it my all from here on out.

I wasn’t lying when I said I’d take friendship from her if that were all she had to give. I’d take her friendship for as long as it took for her to want to give me more.

But I understood a little more about Amara Bloom than I had before. She’d been alone for so long, hurt, and abandoned, and afraid, that she’d grown a thick skin. Still, I wasn’t going to hurt her. I’d never abandon her. And I’d conquer every fear she’d show me.