Page 104 of The Professor's Wife

Tristan wasn’t extravagant. He didn’t care what he wore, and he didn’t try to be anything. He wasn’t putting on a show and…

I wasn’t either.

Somewhere over the past few weeks, I had stopped caring what people thought. It didn’t bother me that my hair wasn’t pin-straight or that I didn’t have a shred of makeup on my face. The sun flushed my cheeks every day, and I didn’t panic about sun damage or not having expensive creams at my bedside to apply every night.

I was just living.

Relaxed and in the moment.

And maybe the server saw the same relaxed demeanor in me that she saw in Tristan.

Maybe we really did flow together.

Look good together—

My heart tightened at the thought. I closed my eyes and breathed.

With only his guitar and powerful voice, he sang “Hear Me Now” by Zeeba. The chorus dreamily drifted toward me, full of light, fading fear, and the desperate need to be heard.

I rocked gently to his voice as I stood near the back, my arms crossed over my chest, soaking up the moment.

Pain lanced through me when I opened my eyes and looked at Tristan.

He was staring back at me, his eyes heavy and full of want.

Healwaysfound me in a crowd.

It felt like we were alone in a room together, the way he watched me. I could feel the eyes of others drift our way, and then it was too much.

Too intimate and real.

So damn real.

We were moving too fast, and I didn’t know how to put the brakes on it when my heart was thinking for my head.

Fear and panic slammed into me.

The shocking reality I was now in.

My choices—

I swallowed down a lump and turned away, escaping from his voice and his eyes. I strode through the pub, eager to leave and run, and maybe I should tell Tristan to move along.

I could stay right here in this town. I could find a job and start over, and the past could be just that—the past.

I stood in the parking lot for some time, my back pressed against the camper. I tried to catch my breath, but I wound up staring at the blurring sky and wanting to make sense of everything.

Where did I belong in this beautiful cosmos?

Because I certainly didn’t feel deserving of all this.

Not after—

“Daze.”

I lowered my head at the sound of his voice.

I felt him approach slowly, cautiously, as if he were worried I might run away. He set his guitar on the ground, leaning it against the camper, and then he stood there, a few feet from me, piercing me with his stunning blue eyes.