God, it hurt her to say it.

“I understand you feeling that way. I do. I’m not going to argue a single point. But we’ve built something together, Allie. Something important. And I refuse to walk away from it.”

“You don’t have to add yet another thing for you to feel responsible for destroying, Mick. You don’t have to walk away, because I already did. I did it because I had to. Why can’t you understand?”

“Because my life without you in it doesn’t make any sense. It never has. Don’t you see? It’s always been us. Mick and Allie. No matter how many years we spent apart. The ones who have to end up together if life is fair. Hell, even if it’s not. You were right about that, Allie.”

When all she could do was blink at him, he went on. “We were meant to be together. We both know it. You always have. I ran from it for years because I didn’t think I was good enough for you. I covered that up in excuses about you being so pure—and I don’t mean this as any kind of insult, but I knew damn well you weren’t some innocent virgin. I recognized your desires back when we were in high school, when you were a virgin. I saw a little of the darkness in you and I blamed myself for it. And the kink . . . back then I thought there was something wrong with me. But even now, knowing what I know about kink, what I know about you, the kink seems more pure for you.”

He started to pace then. She still had no idea what to say or where he was going with all this. All she knew was the staggering pain she felt at seeing him there, hearing that raw edge to his voice. But she didn’t know what she could trust in.

We were meant to be together.

Wasn’t that what she’d always believed?

He stopped and stared at her for several long moments.

“Are you letting me stay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “You have my attention.”

He leaned against the counter behind him. “It’s all fucked up, and I’m just now getting it. What played into the way I viewed myself, and the way I viewed you through those lenses that saw me as . . . defective.” She saw his hands clench into fists at his sides. “It wasn’t about you at all. Except for the part where I love you. I always have. I always will. That much was true from the start.” His tone lowered, his brows drawing together. “Do you love me at all, Allie girl?”

Her breath caught on a strangled sob. “Of course I do!”

He was at her side in an instant, but when he tried to take her in his arms, she pushed him away.

“Mick, I don’t know how to feel right now. So, you’ve had this epiphany. Now what?”

“Now I stop the fighting—the kind that’s anything more than a workout. The kind that comes from anger and frustration. The kind with that edge of need that bites into me. I don’t need it anymore. I thought I did. But Allie, if I have you . . .”

“I don’t understand, Mick.” Her head was spinning. “I don’t know how this all comes together.”

“I know I’m not making much sense. I’m trying.” He stopped, scrubbed at his goatee. “Okay. Let me try this again. I started having these thoughts about kink back in high school and I felt like they were wrong. Crazy, maybe. I didn’t want to pollute you with the dirt going on in my head. Those urges got stronger as I grew older. By the time I was getting ready to leave for college, I was convinced I would ruin you somehow. I was barely eighteen—what did I know? I didn’t understand myself what was happening to me.”

“But we were together that one time when we were in college. And after that night I never heard from you again.” She couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice. “That tortured me, Mick! Because that night was . . . transcendent for me. I knew exactly what I wanted—what I’d fantasized about for such a long time. Things I could barely comprehend. I cried because it was so beautiful to me. Beautiful because it was with you. And then you took it all away from me.”

“I know. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I didn’t trust myself. And after that, I knew how much I’d hurt you by disappearing, and I felt even more like an asshole who could never deserve you. But things got even worse.”

“The accident,” she said, her chest going tight.

“Yeah. The accident. That pretty much ruined me. I’ve known it this whole time, when I’ve allowed myself to consciously think about it at all, which hasn’t been too often. And . . . well, I’m a guy, and I admit we’re not always the most enlightened of the species.”

“Agreed. Go on.”

She knew she wasn’t being very nice, with Mick laying his soul out on the table. But she was still as pissed off as she was hurt. Almost, anyway. The anger was helping her to keep a lid on her emotions. To keep her from throwing her arms around him and simply forgiving him everything because it damn well hurt to see that Mick having to say these things out loud—to say them to her—was tearing him apart.

“So,” he went on, “I need to talk to you about the accident, Allie. In a way I’ve never talked to anyone about it. Maybe not even to myself—and I swear I’m not saying this because I want pity or to scare you. I almost died that day. They told me I should have, given the speed of the impact and what happened to the bike. You asked me about my Latin tattoo? Non Timebo Mala—‘I will fear no evil.’ It’s about that. About having faced death. My own stupidity. And over the years it’s come to mean all kinds of things. Facing the dark place inside me that drives the kink. Trying to learn not to fear . . . anything. It’s a process. Life is a process. I didn’t know until you came back into my life that you—us being together—was a part of it. Not that we’re evil, of course, but that I perceived being close to you as an evil because I was afraid to do it. I don’t know, it doesn’t translate directly. Am I making any sense?”

“Yes. I think so.”

He went back to lean against the tile counter and closed his eyes for a moment. “Okay. Back to the accident. I don’t know if you understand what it’s like to have the reputation of generations before you to live up to. It’s not a conscious expectation, but it’s there all the same. It’s almost genetic in my family. We always knew exactly what we’d do with our lives, my brothers and I. There was no question. We were all a little bad, the Reid kids, but everyone fell into line when it was time to get serious about becoming a firefighter. Except me. I took it too far. Far enough that there was no coming back. And that ended everything for me.

“I was nothing but a walking—barely—black mood for a good year after. Jamie helped me with that. I think he was just glad not to have lost another friend. He was still pretty fucked up about Brandon when I went and wrapped my fucking motorcycle around that tree. It was a shitty thing to do to him. To my mother . . . Christ.” He shook his head, his gray eyes going dark. “I remember thinking I was glad you weren’t around to see it. By the time I saw you again, I’d convinced myself I was over it. Which really means I’d stuffed it way down deep. But it was always lurking under the surface, waiting to come out in some ugly way.”

She knew she should say something, murmur some words of encouragement, but all she could do was nod for him to continue. It hurt like hell to hear it all. To hear in detail what he’d gone through. Hadn’t she been asking him to tell her this? But it was almost too hard now, when it felt as if an ocean lay between them—a distance she felt she had to maintain. Her fingers flexed in her lap.

He ran a hand over his hair. “That’s when the fighting started. Just the sparring at the gym at first, but it wasn’t long before I found the underground fight circuit. Easy enough to find if you’re really looking for it, especially in a city like New Orleans. You came back to town after I’d had my first few fights, which is the only reason I even dared to be with you—because the fighting was there to help me burn off some of the anger and the guilt. The only reason I had to believe I could keep my shit together around you. But I couldn’t. Not with you. And I’ve always regretted it.”