“I’m all right. Tired from the long days. It’s good to see you, Elias.” Hadn’t I said that already? I’d made such a fucking mess of things.

“Elias…” My eyes darted away from him. “I’ve been thinking, and I just don’t know if this”—I waved a hand in front of the two of us, looking at a spot somewhere over his shoulder—“is a good idea.”

I felt him straighten, and when he spoke, he was dead serious. “Did I do or say anything to make you uncomfortable?”

Fuck, I should’ve known I’d worry him. “No, not at all. It’s just that you have a lot going on with your dad, and I’m just a leech sucking up your time and energy. You don’t need to be dealing with me on top of everything.”

I looked down and saw his hands flexing, opening and closing, like he was itching to grab me. A swarm of bees buzzed in my chest, wanting him to reach for me. Hoping he’d stop this and we could go back to the way it had been just a few days before.

But he didn’t do that. He considered me for a moment before speaking with that same careful manner he always had. “I have not been ‘dealing’ with you.” I could hear the air quotes in the word. “I’ve been getting to know you. Desta, you don’t have to be my protector. It may be hard for you to believe, but I’m perfectly capable of deciding which things and which people I want to spend my time with. You don’t know better than I do about what I can take on.”

I flinched, remembering what he’d shared about his ex. But this was just one more way in which this was all just a bad idea.

“I’m very tired, Elias.” I lifted a shoulder, feigning an exhaustion that had evaporated the moment I’d set eyes on him. “Long day. I’ll just have some dinner in my room and turn in early,” I said, making a show of yawning.

His face, which had been open when he’d first seen me, was now shuttered and unhappy. His full lips pursed as he gave me a terse nod. “If you're tired and you are done with me, I won’t push you, Desta. But don’t use me as an excuse to punish yourself. I don’t play those games.”

I hated being the one putting an unhappy expression on that mouth, which was made for smiling. I hated that I’d ruined everything. I wanted to tell him to forget what I’d said. To ask him into my room, and kiss him. Touch him until he made everything right again.

But I didn’t. “I’m sorry.”