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Her throat tightened.
“Blake . . .”
“And lately,” he went on, “I’ve been having a really hard time with something.”
Well, that doesn’t sound good.
“With what?”
“Not wanting more.”
And there it was.
Not a grand declaration. There were no flowers. No candles. Just Blake.
“You want more?”
“I do.” He nodded without hesitation.
Devon thought about the last six months.
The messages. The calls. The silly memes that made her literally laugh out loud. The ridiculous arguments over technology, and the friendly banter that always left her wearing a smile.
He’d become part of her everyday life without her noticing when it happened. And now she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
“Why didn’t you say anything before now?”
Blake’s expression softened. “Six months ago, you were lying in a hospital bed after being nearly killed. You needed a friend, not some random guy hitting on you.”
Something inside her cracked open.
“I never felt like you saw me as broken.”
Not even when that’s exactly how she’d seen herself.
“No.” He shook his head, even though she hadn’t asked an actual question. “I never saw you that way, because you were never broken. And you’re not a victim, either. You’re a survivor, Dev.”
Her eyes burned as Blake brushed a fallen tear from her cheek.
“I don’t feel like one most days.”
“I know.” His gaze held hers. “But you are. And one day, you’ll see yourself the same way I do.”
“What do you see when you look at me?”
“I see a woman who’s been through hell and come out the other side. A woman who pushes through the pain and heartache and fear. Who keeps going even on the days she just wants to stay in bed.”
She’d told him that once. A rare admission in the early days of their then-burgeoning friendship.
And he’d listened. Without judgment or condescension. There’d been no mansplaining how she just needed to give it time, or meaningless platitudes.
Just Blake.
The man who’d made her laugh in a hospital room when laughing hurt. Who’d listened without pushing. And though she didn’t understand how, when she was with him, Devon almost felt like her old self again.
She looked at the bruise on his jaw. His scraped knuckles. Her eyes found his before his gaze dropped to her mouth.
Devon’s pulse jumped. Blake leaned in, giving her plenty of time to move away. She didn’t even consider it.
