I was caught between feeling terrible that I’d clearly frightened her and horribly embarrassed that I’d had a panic attack. A freaking panic attack. What Jackson and Dr. Henry had gamely called post-traumatic stress, which I had rejected, really was just me having a huge freak-out. They were right. I was a head case. This was not my finest hour.

Annabelle parked in front of the house, and I’d never been so grateful to be home in my life. As if by stepping over the threshold, I could leave this vulnerable version of myself behind.

“You don’t have to stay,” I said. I climbed the steps, pulling out my keys. “I’m fine.”

I didn’t want her to lose sleep waking up every few hours to check on me. Also, there was a part of me that was certain she must see me differently now. She’d learned more about my past than I’d ever planned to tell her, she’d found out about the Sunshine House, and she’d witnessed me having a complete and total nervous breakdown, culminating in knocking myself out. I’d never felt like such a complete loser in my entire life.

That was the moment that I knew that this crazy thing between us was done. It had run its course and we hadn’t even hit the three-month mark. But there was no way I was going to keep her tied to me, a broken guy with mental issues, when she deserved so much more. I turned to face her.

“Go home, Annabelle,” I said. I felt ridiculous, like a kid yelling at a stray puppy to stop following him, but I did it anyway for her sake. “I don’t need you to look after me. I’ve got this.”

“Shh,” she shushed me. “Don’t be an idiot. And you have exactly two choices here, I can stay with you and check on you every few hours or I can call Jackson, tell him what happened, and we’ll put you back in that car and go to the hospital.”

The fierce light in her eye told me she was not playing. Okay, then. I’d let her tuck me in, which was galling, but then she was out of here.

I unlocked the door and we slipped into the house in full stealth mode, not wanting to wake anyone up. That lasted all of three seconds when the moonlight caught Annabelle’s delicate profile, and the longing for her, to be inside her, hit me so low and deep, I couldn’t think of anything else.