“I’m sorry,” John said again, this time in a low voice. He slid his hand across the table and pressed his heavy fingers to Mary’s forearm for just a sliver of a second.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Mary waved off his words. “It’s just been a really long day.”

They’d both eaten very fast, so John cleared their plates, found some clean towels and efficiently changed the sheets on his bed.

He tucked some clothes under his elbow and rocked on his heels, his hands in his pockets. “I just want you to know that this building is extremely secure. If you’re worried, though, throw the dead bolts after I leave. And, as I’m sure you noticed, if you yell for me from my apartment, I’ll definitely hear you next door.”

He flashed her a quick, sheepish smile, and it made Mary want to weep. Even stuff that felt good felt bad. She was flayed open, tired and vulnerable and wanting every last drop of John’s goodness right now. He’d sleep with her in the bed if she asked him. She knew it. He was just that kind of friend. He’d hold her hand if she wanted. He’d watch a movie and let her curl up on his lap like Ruth.

Different stages of life.

But it would all be because this terrible thing had happened to her shop. He was a good friend looking for any way to comfort her. She wanted John, wished very much that he wanted her too, but she wouldn’t use this situation to her advantage. She refused to let the men who’d trashed her shop be responsible for her trashing her relationship with her new friend. Because if she took from him tonight, she was certain that things would be awkward tomorrow. She knew it.

And more than anything, she needed things to be okay when she opened her eyes in the morning. She wanted to feel refreshed and relieved to be where she was. Which meant that she needed to lean on John an appropriate amount right now. No matter the fact that his top button was loose and she really wouldn’t have minded pressing her lips to that golden triangle at the bottom of his throat.

“Okay,” she eventually said, somewhat scratchily. She wasn’t sure if she was responding to what he’d said or if she was fortifying herself.

“You don’t mind having Ruth around? She’ll probably sleep up on the bed with you.”

“Sounds nice.”

He cleared his throat. “Okay. I’ll come back in the morning. We’ll get your door fixed.” He lingered at his door for just a beat. “Good night, Mary.”

“Good night, John.”

CHAPTER TWELVE