Andi stared at him in wonder, and her blue eyes turned shiny with tears. She grabbed his hands. “Hill…”
He shook his head before she could say anything. “But I can’t do this.”
A line appeared between her brows, her fingers cold against his. “Do what?”
“I meant what I said about being the practice guy,” he said, the words like knives in his throat. “How I feel about you doesn’t change that.”
“Of course it does,” she said, exasperation in her voice. “Hill, don’t be ridiculous. I already told you I wanted to date you, that I’ve developed feelings for you. And you think I didn’t feel something with that kiss? Knowing you’re feeling things back…” She squeezed his hands. “That’s… I want that. I want to be in a relationship with you.”
He swallowed past the pain in his throat. What she was offering him was like the ripest, brightest fruit on the tree, but he couldn’t grab it. He knew better. “Andi, I can’t. I can’t be the default guy or someone’s comfort-blanket choice again. What happened with Christina…” He released her hands. “It ripped me apart.”
Andi was shaking her head slowly, silently.
“She told me that she’d already been tempted to cheat before my accident. She’d already realized her mistake,” he said, the words echoing inside him with shame. “I was just the good-enough guy, not the guy. She didn’t recognize that initially because she didn’t have enough experience to know what a true soul mate felt like.”
“I’m not her,” Andi whispered.
“No, you’re not,” he said. “But I also think you’ve been put in a position where you can easily mistake safety for feelings. I’m the safe guy.” His eyes burned. “I’m glad you feel safe with me, but I don’t want you to look up in a year or two and realize that what we have isn’t setting your heart on fire, that you should’ve dated around and determined what you’re looking for in a guy beyond ‘guy who won’t hurt me.’”
She blinked, quiet tears escaping down her cheeks. “You’re hurting me now. You’re telling me I don’t know my own heart, my own mind.”
His ribs cinched, a sick feeling moving through him. “Andi, you’ve never even had a slow dance with a guy. You don’t know what you don’t know yet.”
“Who the fuck cares if I’ve slow danced or not? And you’re right,” she said, frustration in her voice. “I can’t guarantee you that a relationship between us will work out. No one can promise that up front. But I can guarantee you that if we don’t try, we’re promised a zero percent chance. The only way to protect yourself from a broken heart is to never let yourself love anyone. And wow, that sounds like a fun life.”
He looked down.
She sighed at his nonresponse. “Come on, this isn’t you. Your heart told you the truth in there on that dance floor. This—whatever this is—is your depression telling you lies.”
His attention flicked upward at that.
“I know about those kinds of lies,” she said, earnestness in her voice. “I know what it’s like for your brain to tell you it’s safer not to try at all. Mine used to tell me not to leave the house, that nowhere was safe. Once I fought those back, it told me to trust no man, that evil lurked everywhere, that any guy would hurt a woman if given the chance. I still fight those demons, but I do fight.” She shook her head. “Your fight looks different, but it’s still a fight. Your demons tell you that no one could possibly want to be with you. That once I come to my senses, I’ll bail on you. They tell you that you’re somehow less than because of what you’ve been through. They tell you that you’re doing me a favor by pushing me away. And it’s bullshit. You’re an amazing man, Hill. Smart and sexy and brave. You think those women earlier were throwing around money at the auction for you because they were feeling charitable?”
He heard what she was saying, but she wasn’t seeing all the experiences she hadn’t had yet. She was like the girl who’d always lived in the small town who’d never been to the city. He was the boy who lived down her street in that small town. He would not tie her to him, would not hold her back from the world.
He took a deep breath and gathered up the guts to say what needed to be said. “We need to end this. It’s not good for either of us anymore.”
Andi gasped like she’d been hit in the stomach. “You can’t be serious. Are you hearing me at all?”
The betrayed look in her eyes gutted him. “Andi…”
“You give me a movie-worthy kiss, tell me you’re falling in love with me, and then break things off?” she asked, looking up to the heavens as if answers from on high would be forthcoming. “Why would you give me that only to take it away?”
He winced. “We promised we’d always be honest with each other.”
“But you’re not being honest with yourself.” She gave him a frustrated look. “You’re breaking up with me because you’re falling in love with me? Listen to that statement. That doesn’t make any sense.”
The words stabbed at him. “You deserve more than what I can offer you.”
She stared at him for a long moment, like she was trying to figure out a puzzle, testing out different pieces and none fitting. “You know,” she said finally, shaking her head, her tone changing almost as if she were talking to herself. “Maybe that’s true.”
He frowned, her agreement stinging.
Her throat bobbed, and her chin tipped up in that way he’d learned was her defense mode. “I deserve someone who’s willing to risk a broken heart to be with me. Who’s willing to gamble that things may not go perfectly. Someone who doesn’t require a guarantee.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but she beat him to it.
“That’s what being open to love looks like,” she said. “I was willing to risk all of that for you. I was willing to face down whatever demons I had to because it meant I got to be with you.”
The confession tore him open, the past tense in her words hitting home. He wanted to reach for her, to take it all back, but he forced himself to keep his hands at his sides.
Something closed off in her expression. “You’re so concerned that you’re my practice guy, but maybe you weren’t my practice at all. Maybe I was yours. You tried things out and realized you’d rather be alone.”
He stepped forward, shaking his head. “No, that’s not—”
She lifted a hand, halting him. “Please, don’t. You said what you needed to say. I’m hearing you. This is done. Got it.” She made a quiet sound of disbelief in the back of her throat and gave him a sad-eyed look. “But you know, what I told my friends on movie night was right. Love isn’t romantic. It’s a goddamned horror show. Just when you start to trust that it can be good, it punches you in the face again. I should’ve known better.”