I shrugged.
“Is this a girl friend or a guy friend?” he asked, just as though he had the right.
I cleared my throat. “It’s a guy, though it’s not a big deal. Like I said, we’re just going out to dinner.”
He nodded, rubbing his jaw and looking at his feet. “It’s not your ex, is it?” he asked quietly, his voice low.
“It’s not,” I rushed to answer, a little defensive because I had considered that idea, albeit briefly.
“Just a friend, huh?” he asked blandly.
“Yep.”
“So why does it have to be just the two of you? That seems more like a date to me.”
I felt my temper rise a bit. “What if it was a date? Would there be something wrong with that?”
He moved into the small opening, bringing his face close. I was sitting cross-legged, and his hand found my knee, squeezing lightly. “I thought you said you weren’t going to date for a while? Didn’t Lucy tell you that you should avoid that for now, and didn’t you agree with her?”
“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to nag each other? Wasn’t that on our stupid list?”
“There’s a difference between nagging, and expressing concern.”
“Now you sound like Lucy,” I said dryly.
“Who is this guy you’re going out with tonight? Why have I never heard about these plans until today?”
I hated, absolutely despised, that he sounded like a concerned parent just then. “How about we add this to our list? I don’t get to ask you about who you fucked last night, and you don’t get to ask me who I go out with.”
He looked around, eyes wide. “Watch the language. The kids.”
The boys had moved on as soon as we’d started having grown up talk. They were currently wrestling with Pupcake in the sandbox by the fence.
“You should fucking talk,” I pointed out sharply.
“I’ve gotten better, haven’t I?”
He had a point. He’d improved his language around the kids faster than anyone could have predicted.
“Fine, I’ll drop it,” he said, his tone dark. “What time is he picking you up?”
“I’m meeting him somewhere at nine.”
“That seems late. And he can’t even be bothered to pick you up? You can do better, boo.”
“You’re an ass,” I told him, taking exception to the bite in his tone. “It was my idea to meet up.”
“Hiding him from me? You worried I’ll scare him off?”
I let out a noise of frustration through my teeth, wanting to throttle him.
“Sorry. I am being an ass. I’m just feeling, I don’t know…overprotective? The thought of you being alone with some strange guy makes me…worry.”
“Well, don’t. Where I’m concerned, all the damage has already been done. There’s nothing left to protect me from.”
He’d begun to back off, but at my words, he moved close again, studying my face, that big warm hand back on my leg. “What on earth does that mean?”
I blinked rapidly. I couldn’t believe I’d said something like that, and to him. Already, there was sympathy in his voice, enough sympathy to have me blinking back tears. I hated sympathy, but was somehow always strongly affected by it. “It’s nothing. Certainly nothing you want to hear about.”
“I certainly do. Please. I want to know just what you meant by that. What damage has already been done?”
All of it, I thought. “Nothing,” I said.
He didn’t buy that for a second. “We’re friends. You can tell me anything.”
I mulled that over. Was that true? I was in a mood to find out. “Promise you won’t feel sorry for me,” I whispered, my eyes on the kids, making sure they were out of trouble, and out of earshot.
“I promise,” he whispered back, his other hand reaching into the tree house opening and pulling at my shoulder to tug me further out. I let him, not even protesting when he had my legs out, his chest pressed against my bent knees. “Tell me.”
I grimaced. “It’s nothing, really. It’s old news, and not even that big of a deal. It’s just…you never have to be protective of me. I can take care of myself, and even if I can’t, I know from experience that I’ll survive it, whatever it is.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” he said softly, one of his hands moving into my hair.
Gently, he turned my head to look at him. “What the hell does it mean? Did someone hurt you? Are you talking about your ex? Do I need to go and hurt him?”
I shook my head. “He was a mistake, and a royal asshole, but no, that’s not what I meant. Though you can’t protect me from assholes, either. That’s my choice to make. What I mean is that I’m not some innocent kid. I haven’t been innocent in a very long time, so don’t go thinking that you need to protect me, as though I am.”
“Is that really what you think? That only innocents deserve protection?”
The bastard had pulled a Lucy on me. Is that really what I thought? As I considered the question, I realized that I did, at least as it pertained to me.
I was embarrassed by that realization, but it didn’t change my thinking. My issues were too deeply ingrained for that.
I shrugged, turning my head to look away from him. He didn’t let me, bringing his other hand to tip my chin up.