Flowers. He was holding flowers. I accepted them, trying to look as if I’d done that before when I didn’t think I’d even held a bouquet before. They were heavier than I expected. The smell of damp spring serenaded me.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” I led him to the kitchen to hide my blush. “But I…I was hoping to talk to you about last night.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw as he leaned his hip against the counter. “Go ahead.”

“I know how it looked, but it wasn’t like that.” Maybe it would have been better to let him believe it was rape, to never talk about it again, but I couldn’t bind him to me by pretending to be the victim.

“I heard you say no,” he said.

I wiped my palms on the plasticky fabric of my dress. “I know I said that. But sometimes that’s what I want. For someone not to stop. I know that sounds kind of crazy. I mean, it probably is crazy. I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that I…have issues.”

His face softened just a fraction. “I know. Can you tell me?”

My throat tightened. Actually, every muscle went taut as if the strength of my body could keep my mind from saying too much. It wasn’t a choice, not talking about what happened. It was a physical impossibility. It always had been.

People seemed to think they could fix anything by talking it out. Afternoon talk shows and therapists and meetings didn’t really help people. All they did was provide a forum for them to talk. Assuming a person could talk about it.

The only person who really knew what had happened that night was Shelly. And even then she had pieced it together from my babbling and bruises and, later, the positive pregnancy test.

The thought of telling someone, of telling Colin, about that night was…unthinkable. If I tried, my mind shut down, blank and helpless.

I didn’t know how much time had passed with me frozen, but he pulled me to him. “It’s okay,” he said. “We all have issues.”

I heard Shelly’s voice in my ear, quoting the Mad Hatter. “We’re all mad here.”

His hands running along my back unlocked my voice. “Even you?”

He nodded.

My eyes searched his. “What are your issues?”

“That would be cheating.”

I couldn’t help but smile. His eyes narrowed on my mouth.

He leaned down and pressed a soft, almost chaste kiss to my lips. I felt his lips open, and I opened mine too. But he didn’t plunge inside. Instead his lips fastened on my lower lip and tugged.