Free Love on a Spring Morning by Zoe York Page A

tightened his grip on her and she closed her eyes.
    Had any man ever hugged her for this long? Any arms ever been this strong around her? And still he didn’t ask for anything else. Didn’t want to be seen as her plus one or take a selfie with her after she’d fallen asleep in his bed.
    What cruel irony that the only man who didn’t want her for anything other than herself was the one man she’d probably never have a chance with. She didn’t need him to explain that he wasn’t ready to bring a woman into his house. She’d tried hard not to listen to the rumours, but she knew his wife had died the previous year. And the house she was staying in belonged to his in-laws, so it wasn’t like she could invite him into her bed, either.
    And you’re lying to him. That weighed heavier on her every time they came together. But if she—no, when she told him, it would be over. She knew that without a doubt. She was going to hurt him, badly, because she’d kept this secret from him.
    But she couldn’t tell him, because she wasn’t ready to let him go yet. It was awful and selfish, but Holly had never had anything like this before. She’d dated another actor for more than a year, and never shared a tenth of the intimacy she’d already shared with Ryan.
    She’d learned in the last week what a true connection was, and it had nothing to do with sex. It gutted her to think that she’d never get a chance to deepen that connection with him.
    “You okay?” he asked quietly as he let her go, his gaze raking over her face.
    She gazed up at him, willing herself to just focus on him and let go of her feelings. She looked at his face, barely covered in twenty-four hours of stubble. His hair, just creeping over his ears, and longer, scruffier on top. She smoothed her hands over his chest and down his sides to his solid, thick waist. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
    “I know you aren’t asking me for anything, or looking at me with pity in your eyes. I know you understand I don’t have anything to give. That’s all I need.” He squeezed her hands in his, his fingers curling all the way around her smaller fists. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”
    “I’m…” She took a deep breath. “We’ve never talked about your wife, and—”
    “And I don’t want to,” he interrupted her roughly.
    “Okay. I wasn’t going to. But I think—”
    “Don’t. Don’t think about my life.” He dropped her hands and shoved his fingers through his hair, shadowing his face.
    She froze. How had their conversation gone so sideways, so suddenly?  
    She reached out, her fingertips brushing his forearm. “Ryan, I’m sorry.”
    “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” His voice, gruff and heavy, sounded like an entirely different person to the one who’d just spent an hour teasing and asking her questions. He looked down at her hand, and slowly twisted out of her grasp. “This…thing between us. It was a break from reality for me, okay? And if you can’t be on board with that, if you insist on talking about me and my feelings and all the stuff I don’t want to talk about, then I need to ask you not to come over.”
    Shaking now for an entirely different reason, she took a step back. All the gentleness was gone, and in its place was a defensive shield. She knew that’s why he was barking at her, but it still stung. “Did you ever think that maybe it was a break from reality for me, too?” Even though her voice was trembling and she was totally showing her hand, she kept going. “And what about that talk of friendship? I c-care about you. I thought we were getting close enough to talk.”
    “I guess it’s not that easy to escape my demons.” He looked at her again, but it wasn’t just that his gaze was hooded and dark. An entirely different man stared at her for a second, and in that instant, she thought it might be possible that she was seeing more of Ryan than she’d ever glimpsed before.
    But he