Free Love on a Spring Morning by Zoe York Page B

didn’t want her to see that side of him—how broken he was. And maybe that was fair. She’d just wanted to play at being normal, too. Her demons paled in comparison to his, she was sure, but they’d both been pretending.
    She bit her lip to keep from crying. No way would she let him see how deep he’d gotten under her skin. But she had to make sure he knew she got that this was hard for him. “I’ll go. But if you change your mind, you know where I am. I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped.”
    “I’m the one who should be sorry. And I am, but this is for the best.” He exhaled roughly, and for a second she thought he was going to reach for her. Instead, he hardened his mouth and nodded. “Goodbye, Holly.”
    She watched, speechless, as he disappeared inside, leaving her standing on his porch all alone.

    — —  

    Ryan didn’t sleep well that night, unable to get the look on Holly’s face out of his mind. The next night was even worse. He’d been a complete asshole to her. He’d known what he was saying, but it had been like he was watching himself push her away. The worst part was that he still wasn’t sure he was wrong to do it, which made him feel shitty all over again.
    Proof he wasn’t in the right headspace to have a casual flirtation or anything else. He’d thought Holly was a safe choice to start taking some little moments here and there for himself, but he’d forgotten there was still another person involved there.
    On Saturday, he took to the muddy trail again with the kids, happy for the excuse to pass the cottages, but the big one was locked up tight. She’d said she was going away for a few days, but he regretted that he hadn’t had a chance to apologize again before she left. Again ? He’d done a piss-poor job of it on Thursday night.
    He kept telling himself it was for the best that he realized it was going too fast before it actually went anywhere. If he couldn’t handle a hug and some pretty basic questions, he had no right to keep flirting with her. There was no such thing as an uncomplicated crush with his emotional baggage.  
    On Sunday night, a dark SUV rolled past his house, and he went outside, watching through the trees as a light flicked on in the lake house.
    She didn’t come over.
    He ignored the ugly slide of emotions through his gut as he realized that signalled the end of his doomed infatuation with Holly Cresinski. It’s fine , he told himself. Bound to happen eventually . Just a matter of time. Better now than later.
    None of the platitudes worked, and when he went back inside, he kicked a kitchen chair across the room. It was what he’d asked her for. What the hell was his problem?
    Swearing under his breath, he returned the chair to its rightful spot at the table, and went to the cupboard. No . He didn’t need a drink tonight. He needed…
    He couldn’t put what he wanted into words, not even in his head. As he turned out the lights and locked the doors, climbed the stairs and slowly undressed, he fought against the whispers in his head. You want her. You missed a chance to kiss her and hold her and take her, like you’ve wanted for weeks. And you’re mad at yourself .
    Yeah, he was mad at himself. Because while yes, he wanted those things, that barely scratched the surface. Would kissing Holly make anything better?
    Or would it just be an escape? Would he be using her to forget about his life the way that Jack used his tablet?
    But he couldn’t dig deeper than that. He could feel a headache coming on and he leaned his forehead against the tiles.  
    Cranking on the shower, he stepped under the steamy spray, and without thinking about it, he took himself in hand.
    Jerking off in the shower used to be an almost daily thing for him. He’d maybe done it once or twice since Lynn’s death, and it had made him cry—there was something fucked up there, but he wasn’t going to bring up masturbating to the counsellor, so it just sat in the back of his head as