His gaze held mine for a moment and then he looked away. Rubbing the heel of his palm over his heart, he frowned. “When I realized this morning I was there when you found that and had no idea, I wanted to punch myself in the nuts.”

My brows flew up.

The muscle along his jaw popped. “I’m serious. What has been happening to you has to be some scary shit. Finding your panties in a dishwasher? Not knowing how that happened, wondering if your place should be on Ghost Adventures or if you need to get your head checked had to be driving you crazy. And you went through that by yourself—­by yourself when I was there.” He scooted to the edge of the chair and leaned forward. “I fucking loathe the idea of you going through that.”

I drew in a deep breath but it got stuck. “You were angry . . . and you had every right to be angry.”

“I was.” He looked up at me through thick lashes. “But I should’ve been there for you. You should’ve been able to stop me and show me what happened. That’s not your fault that you didn’t. I put you in that position and I’m sorry for that.”

My mouth opened, but I didn’t know what to say.

“It’s time to have that conversation,” he said, his voice brooking no argument. “And we really need to be up front with one another. Both of us. No more bullshit.”

I leaned against the railing, feeling a little weak, but I didn’t run or try to hide from this. I wasn’t a coward. At least, I tried not to be one. “You’re right,” I said, but I wished he’d put a damn shirt on, because that body was super distracting.

“You know that I was pissed. You know why I’m pissed.”

“You hate lying above anything else. I know it’s because of your dad,” I said, and I rushed on before I stopped. “Knowing that made it hard to come clean about that night. Not that I’m excusing it, but just so you know where I’m coming from.”

“Lying isn’t what I hate above all else, Roxy. I hate fucking predators who stalk women and ­people I care about. That’s pretty high up there. So is murder and rape,” he continued, and I think I got his point. “But yeah, I was pissed. I’m still kind of pissed.”

I cringed inwardly. Here it comes . . .