And if she didn’t turn away…

Alexis couldn’t move as Luke kicked off his pants. After how careful he’d been to make sure she didn’t see his scars the other night, he was stripping in front of her. One look at the angry challenge in his eyes and she understood. He thought she was going to shy away or flinch, and it was easier to go on the attack than to take it passively. Well, tough luck. Everyone had scars—his just happened to be physical, in addition to the mental load he so obviously carried around.

She was the last person who was going to falter when it came to other people’s issues. She had far too many of her own.

When he was finally naked in front of her, she let herself look her fill. God, he was magnificent. The scars only added to the picture, winding up his right leg and side, drawing attention to his narrow waist, leading up to a set of pectoral muscles that made her mouth water. Even his half-finished tattoo sleeves only created a picture of a man who was in the midst of change.

Kind of like her.

It wasn’t a comfortable realization, because it made her feel closer to him, and if his actions over the last few days were anything to go by, he didn’t want anyone closer to him. What were the odds that she’d go to Europe and end up spending time with a man who was just as broken as she was?

Luke held out his hands, as if asking, Well?

She shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.”

He blinked, the shock on his face almost hilarious. She knew better than to laugh, though. Who was the last person he let see him like this? I bet it was someone he was in love with. I bet whoever she was, she flinched away from him and added yet another scar to the mix. It was enough to make her wish she had the ability to reach back through history and slap the shit out of whoever she was—and Alexis had no doubt it was a woman. This level of almost-insecurity didn’t come from comments made from the same sex.

As they stood there, staring at each other, she had to do something to break the moment. It felt too fragile, too intimate. She couldn’t fix Luke. She couldn’t even fix herself. But maybe she could ensure that he walked away from their time together with a few experiences to mark in the “good” column.

After all, he’d already done the same for her.

Alexis held up the bucket of ice. “Why don’t you go shower and then put some ice on that knee? I’ll get the laundry started.”

“Laundry. Right.” With a nod, he disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door. A few seconds later, the shower started.

Then, and only then, did she slouch to the bed and let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She’d known Luke was as damaged—like called to like—but somehow this new realization hit harder than that basic knowledge. Someone had hurt him, beyond the devastating physical injury. With each new piece of information she carved away, she was forced to face the facts—they weren’t nearly as different as she’d thought. If he didn’t think she was so damn worthless, they might have even…

Alexis laughed. Might have what? Fallen into a bed of roses and used their mutual understanding to heal each other’s brokenness? That kind of thing only happened in movies. The reality was that each person had to look inside themself for the strength to move past their issues. No one else could make that decision for someone else.

Life might be so much easier if they could.

Shaking her head, she emptied her dirty clothes onto the pile with his and set aside a pair of yoga pants and a tank top for later. It took ten minutes to stuff everything in and start the machine, and by the time she made it back to the room, Luke was sprawled on the tiny bed in just his underwear, a makeshift ice pack on his knee. The sight of him sent things low in her stomach tightening, and she stopped inside the doorway, not sure what to do about it. Her first impulse was to crawl into bed with him and use her mouth to explore every inch of exposed skin, but he needed to rest more than she needed his hands on her body.

She had no idea what to do with the protective urge that rose inside her. He didn’t want her help. He’d probably snap at her if she even tried.

He’s using the ice, which means he’s in more pain that he wants to admit.

There wasn’t much she could do for an old injury. Alexis wasn’t a surgical nurse, and even if she were, he’d healed. Now it was a matter of him coming to terms with his new limits and doing the best he could not to injure the weakened knee worse. She had a feeling he was having a hell of a time with both those things.

Alexis dug through her bag to find the bottle of ibuprofen she’d stashed in a side pocket and tapped out two pills. “Take these.”

“I’m not your patient.” But he still took the pills and dry-swallowed them. “You don’t have to baby me.”

“I’m not. And admitting that you overdid it doesn’t mean you’re failing.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, concentrating on reorganizing her bag. She had the strangest feeling like she was approaching a wild creature that was as likely to take off her arm as it was to run away. It wasn’t that she wanted Luke to pour out his heart to her… Not really.

To distract both of them, she said, “What do you do for work?”

He snorted. “Nice change of subject.”

God, he was so prickly. Alexis looked up long enough to shoot him a glare. “Yeah, well, you obviously don’t want to talk about your knee, and sitting here in silence isn’t my idea of a good time.”

“Okay, I’ll play. Right now I’m helping out at my cousin’s shop. Basically, if it’s American made, he can fix it. Even if it’s not, he can probably fix it.” His voice dropped so low she almost missed the next part. “Don’t need two good legs to work on cars.”

She set her bag to the side. “Or a good attitude, either.”

Luke scowled. “I lost everything when that IED took me out. Maybe I’m not clasping my hands and singing ‘Kumbaya’ around a campfire, but I still manage to get out of bed every morning without putting a gun in my mouth and ending it all.”

“Is that really an option you’ve considered?” The thought of the world without him in it made her stomach lurch, but she kept her tone quiet and steady.

“No, damn it.” He didn’t look the least bit happy to admit it, either. “I lived. For whatever reason, my time came and went on that operating table, and I’m still kicking.” He took a sharp breath and seemed to struggle to rein in his temper. “I know I’m a mean bastard, and I know it doesn’t seem like it some days, but I am happy to be alive.”

She watched the truth dawn on his face, and wondered if this was the first time he’d said as much aloud. “Good.” She wanted to say more, to point out that there was so much more to the world than war and death and loss, but with her own loss like a monkey on her back, it felt hypocritical in the extreme. Luke admitted he was happy to be alive. That was as much a step in the right direction as her journey to the top of Pulpit Rock earlier.

I won’t be there to see the end of it.

The truth settled in her chest, as heavy as a boulder. Maybe he was in Europe for the same reason she was, but their time would come to an end and their paths would split, and she’d never see the moment he let the chains of the past go. Because he would. She was suddenly sure of that.

“What happened to you?”

Alexis looked up and froze, a deer facing off with a hungry wolf. The way Luke’s eyes pinned her in place certainly felt predatory. “What?”

“Give me a little credit here, darlin’. You didn’t just decide to travel by yourself through Europe for no reason. Well-adjusted people don’t feel the need to hike to the top of a cliff and touch the edge. Trust me.” He jerked a thumb at his chest. “It takes one to know one.”

This was the moment. He’d bared his physical scars to her. Now she had the choice between returning the favor with her emotional scars or turning away. She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. There were too many other voices in her head. Eric’s saying, “You weren’t that much of a catch to begin with, Alexis. And now I’m expected to give up my future children? Absolutely not.” Yé-yé’s saying, “You had one job, and you’ve failed at that, Alexis. You bring shame on our family.” On her dark days, she suspected they both would have been happier if the cancer took her life, instead of her uterus. Even her sister’s saying, “I’m pregnant.” All of them reminders of how she’d dropped the ball as a woman.