“Me too,” he surprised her by saying. “That shock you?”
“A bit.”
“Because I have a lot of money and a fancy place to live?”
Faith sighed.
“You’ve been judging me since I arrived in Lake Howling. How about we clear the air on that.”
He started the coffee after giving Syd a treat. Faith wandered around the small space, her fingers strumming his guitar.
“Do you play?”
“No. I never learned to play an instrument.”
“Did you want to?”
Faith shrugged. “Not really.”
“What kind of answer is not really? You either did or you didn’t.”
“Call your mother.”
He gave her a look that suggested this conversation was not done with, then pulled out his phone.
She listened as he spoke to Millicent. Brief, no emotion, no “I love you.”
“Hope’s still a while away,” he said, placing the phone on the counter. “So we have time to talk about why I annoy you so much.”
“I really don’t want to.” Faith wandered to the kitchen, hoping this conversation was done with.
He leaned back against the counter and folded his arms, his eyes holding hers. “I’m sorry I left you, Faith. But I needed to go. Needed to find myself. I know I hurt you, and that’s on me, and this apology is late, but it’s from the heart.”
He moved suddenly, backing her into the counter. A large hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking slowly over her skin.
“I really am sorry we made love and three days later I left without telling you.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. Soft and achingly sweet. “I need you to know I went because I had to. I wanted to study music, and the thought of leaving you was getting harder and harder.”
Their faces were so close, his eyes holding hers. Willing her to see the truth.
“I’d always had a thing for you,” he confessed.
“Thing?”
He snorted. “I thought you were hot, and you made me go all gooey inside. Then we made love, and everything changed. I realized that what I was feeling was strong, and it could stop me going after what I wanted. We were young; leaving then was something I could still do. If I’d stayed, I’m not sure I would have even able to walk away from you.”
“You never even called me. Never wrote or anything. You just left.”
“A few years after, I realized just how cruel what I’d done had to seem to you. How much you must have hated me for it.”
“I did, and it helped. Hating you got me through until I no longer cared anymore.” She leaned into his mouth and kissed him this time, needing the contact more than her next breath.
“Did Blair hurt you like I did?” His arms folded her into him, and Faith let him, resting her head on his chest. “Did I start the hurt, then him, and now you’re not very trusting of men?”
That his comments were accurate was disturbing. How had he read her so easily?
“Have others hurt you, sweetheart?”
The endearment slipped from his lips with ease and sounded good. Too good.