“I’m trying to. If I didn’t, I never would have slept with you.” My voice wavered. Suddenly, I was dangerously close to tears. I tamped down on it with every ounce of self-control I had. “Maybe I’m a little off-kilter right now, but that was a huge deal to me.”

His coffee-brown eyes softened, shining with affection. “I know. I don’t take that lightly.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, his lips tugging up at the corners. “I think, deep down, you know you can trust me. You just don’t trust your own judgment.”

Things clicked into place.

“Oh my god. I think you’re right.”

Chase leaned in and kissed me briefly, softly, sweetly. He pulled back and brushed my cheek with his fingers. “Then can you talk to me next time instead? Because this pushing me away thing sucks. If you don’t talk to me, there’s nothing I can do on my end.”

Right. If I had been able to approach this like a rational person, that’s probably what I would have done—talked to him. It’s what I would do in the future. Even if it was difficult.

“I’ll try. I’m not as good at talking about things as you are.” I glanced down at the floor, then back up at him. “You might not have a filter, but I have an extra-strength industrial-grade one. With a spare for backup.”

“You overthink, huh?” Chase gave me a half smile. “I’ve noticed.”

I tugged his arm, pulling him toward the bed. It sagged under his weight as he sat and turned to face me. Shifting closer, I placed a hand on his sweatpants-clad thigh. “I know this is my baggage, and I’m trying not to take it out on you. It won’t go away overnight, though.”

“I get it,” he said, rubbing my lower back. Warmth spread through the fabric of my shirt in the wake of his touch. “But I have feelings too, and that shit hurt.”

Guilt settled in my stomach, heavy like a bag of pucks. For all my worrying about him, maybe I was the one who would ruin things.

I touched his muscular shoulder, fingertips resting softly on his T-shirt. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you. But let’s not handle things this way again, okay?”

“Okay.”

We fell quiet for a moment. He dipped his head and caught my eye, forehead wrinkling. “I’ve been pretty open with you, but I feel like you’re holding back.”

“Holding back how?” I asked, deflecting.

Thing was, he was right. I’d been holding back a tiny piece of myself…just in case. Maybe that wasn’t fair to either of us. It wasn’t working very well anyway.

“I’m not sure where your head is at sometimes.”