“I asked about your family. You could have told me then.”

“I know. I … have a hard time talking about personal things.”

Vulnerability. That’s what it comes down to for him.

“There’s so much love here,” I say. “Why would you ever leave? It’s safe and beautiful, and those children adore you.”

He steps forward a few feet to lean his shoulder against the nearest tree. “It’s hard for you to imagine, isn’t it? Ever leaving somewhere safe? This place is wonderful, and I love to visit. But it’s also stifling. I don’t want to be a farmer. I didn’t like any of the seven girls my age in the village.

“Besides, I wanted adventure. I wanted to see the world and meet new people. I would never have had that here.”

We’re so different, he and I. He wants to see the world and I want to hide from it. Here he feels stifled. Here I feel safe.

I wonder if he’s thinking the same thoughts I am in the silence that follows.

“Wait,” I say, looking up. “You talk about personal things. You made a point of telling me ridiculous nonsense about your feelings early on.”

He grins wickedly. “You mean my feelings about you?”

My cheeks heat and I look down.

“That’s not personal. Besides, it’ll never amount to anything because you don’t want it to. So why should I feel vulnerable about that? I do it simply to get a rise out of you. To see that lovely blush spread across your freckled cheeks.”

“I’m glad making me uncomfortable is so entertaining for you.”

He steps forward until he’s standing right in front of me. I stare at the triangle of skin beneath his throat, where his shirt is cut into the shape of a V. Then his fingers are on my cheek, and my whole body lights up in flame.

“It’s not that,” he says. “I hope that one of these times, you might not be uncomfortable. That you’ll be brave enough to try something new.”

I clench my jaw and look up. “I can be brave if I want to. I just don’t want to be brave with you.”

His head angles to the side, and his eyes are on my lips. “Why?”

The question is so sincere and so startling that I freeze.

Because he’s selfish?

No, he’s not. I know that now.

Because he’s arrogant?

Yes, but not overly so. I actually kind of envy that about him.

Because he’s so big and terrifying?

He’s never hurt me, and I know he would never hurt me.

So then, why?

Because this is new. Because I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how. It isn’t safe. It isn’t familiar.

I can’t tell if the next words out of my lips are intentional or not, but out they come anyway. “Because I don’t know how.” I realize then that my eyes are trained on his lips. I can tell this because they’re moving closer as he leans his head down.