Page 156 of Where We Stay

She doesn’t want me to touch her.

So, I don’t.

* * *

I’ve never hated the sound of silence more in my fucking life.

Blair sits beside me, angled toward the window with her arms folded across her chest. She hasn’t said more than five words since we left the restaurant.

Neither have I.

Mostly because every time I open my mouth, I worry I’ll make this worse. Considering tonight started with sunflowers and me planning to show my girl exactly how serious I am about her, that’s really saying something.

I glance over and find her chewing the inside of her cheek.

She does that when she’s anxious.

Apparently, I’ve learned enough about Blair Morgan to know when something is wrong.

Just not enough for her to fucking tell me.

When we reach her cottage, I park in the driveway and walk her to the front door. Blair unlocks it but doesn’t go inside. Instead, she turns to face me, her eyes shining with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Me too, baby.”

She drops her gaze and twists her keys between her fingers. “Dean, I need some space.”

My entire body goes still. “From me?”

“From everything.” Her voice catches, but she forces the words out. “I just need some time to think.”

I stare at her, trying to understand how we got here. “This isn’t about what happened at dinner, is it?”

Blair doesn’t answer.

Of course it fucking isn’t.

“I don’t like this,” I admit.

“I know.”

“And I don’t believe for a second that it came out of nowhere.”

Her fingers tighten around her keys. “I know.”

Every instinct I have is telling me to refuse. To follow her inside and keep asking questions until she finally tells me what the fuck has scared her this badly.

But she asked for space.

I drag a hand over my jaw. “If that’s what you need, I’ll give it to you.”

Blair looks up at me. “Thank you.”

“I’m still here,” I tell her. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Something in her expression cracks, but she turns away before I can work out what it means.