“I’m standing in the middle of the street bawling my eyes out and yelling at you, Jared! Why aren’t you asking me what’s wrong? Why don’t you ever ask me questions?” Jared thought for a moment, seeming surprised at my observation. He took another step toward me with outstretched arms, begging to hold me.

“Is it feelings you have for me? Or are you just following me around because you feel sorry for me? Is it because I’m some tragic, fatherless basket case that you’ve decided to make a charity project out of?”

His eyes turned angry and his arms lowered. “You know that’s not true.”

As he took another step, his face for once didn’t try to hide emotion. His eyes ached for me to come to him; I could see that my tears caused him pain. I leaned into his arms and he wrapped them around me without hesitation.

I relaxed in his embrace for a moment, the warmth of his arms provided instant comfort.

He leaned down to press his cheek against my temple. “It’s more than just feelings, Nina. You have to know that.”

I peered up at him with damp eyes. “Then why haven’t you…?”

“What?” he asked. I shook my head at first, but he pulled me closer to him and his eyes begged me to confess my thoughts. “Tell me.”

“Why haven’t you tried to kiss me?”

He seemed stunned, and then his eyes settled on my lips. I watched as his expression changed from desire, to conflicted, to a decision. I didn’t know what it all meant, so I closed my eyes and leaned into him, knowing his lips were just a few inches from mine. I felt his grip tighten and he held me at bay. My eyes popped open, humiliation crashing over me in waves. Adding to my already crippling embarrassment, tears once again spilled over my cheeks.

His eyes closed tight and his face crumpled. “I don’t want to lie to you.”

The humiliation still flamed my face, but it was now obscured by my anger. I’d grown weary of his vague non-answers. He would offer a tiny bit of truth shrouded in confusing ambiguity and my patience had reached its limit.

Seeing the resentment in my eyes, Jared let out a frustrated sigh. He released me and walked across the street to an impressive black motorcycle parked behind the bench. Without looking back he turned the key, and with a push of the button the engine roared to life. The motor snarled as he revved it a few times before speeding off the sidewalk and down the street.