Page 43 of Not Safe for Work

I tilt my head, pick up the box, and hold it out to him. He plucks a macaron and pops it into his mouth, and I gasp.

“What?” he asks.

“You can’t just blindly choose one. That’s sacrilege! You need to consult the piece of paper! What if you just ate caramel, and you don’t like caramel?”

“It wasn’t caramel.”

“What was it?”

He frowns as he chews. “I’m not sure. Something fruity.”

“You see what I mean? Now you’ve thrown off the whole balance of the box.”

He snatches it from my hand and closes his eyes, picking another one and stuffing it in his mouth with a grin. He chews slowly, clearly enjoying my distress. I grab the box, clutching it to my chest like a precious baby lamb.

“That one was caramel,” he says, and I huff out a laugh.

“Please tell me there’s a lemon one you didn’t recklessly eat.” Peering into the box, I spy a yellow macaron and rescue it, sinking my teeth into the chewy crust.

“Lemon?” he asks, giving me a once-over. “I would have pegged you for a chocolate girl.”

That brings me up short. Why has Rafe ever considered my flavor preference?

“I love both,” I reply, and he nods.

“Good to know.” Then his gaze meets mine. “Thanks for listening. You’re actually easy to talk to.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t seem so surprised. I’m not a total bitch despite what you think.”

“I’ve never thought that,” he says, and it sounds sincere, but I can’t tell if he’s being honest. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“Oh. No, I’m not. It’s been a while.”

“How long is a while?”

I think about my answer, worried about revealing my past, but Rafe just opened up, and I’m enjoying this truce too much to let it end.

“A year-ish,” I say tentatively.

“That’s a long time,” he says. He almost looks relieved, but I must be reading that wrong. “Did you swear off men or something?”

I snort. “Not on purpose.”

That earns me a wry smile, and I let out a drawn-out breath. “I went through a bad breakup years ago that sort of scared me off all relationships. He broke my trust in the worst possible way. I tried to start dating again, but I admit I’m having difficulty putting my faith in anyone. I guess I’m looking for someone that makes me feel… safe.”

I blink because it’s like a light just came on. I don’t think I understood that’s what I wanted until I just voiced it out loud.

He focuses his intense gaze on me. “I’m sorry that happened. You deserve to be with someone you trust implicitly.”

This, too, is uttered with such sincerity that some fundamental part of me shifts.

We’re both quiet for a minute until he tips his head and grins.

“Don’t be mad about the macarons, Tris. Would it help if I took my shirt off again?”