It had been seven months since I’d seen him in person. Seven months. “Shouldn’t you be having a baby any day now?” I asked before I could stop myself. Wow. I needed to engage my mind with my mouth, and quickly.

His head snapped up, green eyes locking with mine.

“I’m sorry, that was a totally insensitive thing to say.” I looked away. Gah, I’d already put myself at a disadvantage in this conversation, and everyone knows your rational mind takes a vacation between two and four in the morning. This idea to talk now, rather than later, was looking dumber by the second. And I couldn’t even hold eye contact with him. The weight of his gaze was just too much for me.

“It’s fine. I deserved that.”

“No. Nobody deserves a thoughtless comment like that. Especially when I have no idea what … happened. I’m sorry.” I turned and headed for the entrance to the kitchen. We’d stood in this very hallway the night we almost kissed. The night that started it all, and I realized there was the potential for far more than friendship going on between Jack and me. That night, I’d shocked us both by asking him not to kiss me. For what good it did me.

If we stayed in this foyer any longer we would both be reminded, and I didn’t need that. He was here to do the overdue it’s not you, it’s me and my pregnant girlfriend talk that he’d been too cowardly to do properly last time. “Let’s get this over with.”

Jack followed me into the kitchen. “Let’s get what over with?”

Seriously? Hmmm. Where to start? “I get that you’re sorry about the way things ended between us, how you handled it or whatever, or that you even got together with me in the first place.”

He folded his arms back across his chest again, tilting his head to the side.

I swallowed nervously and busied myself getting us some water. “And I get that you want to spend time here in Butler Cove, and you don’t want it to be awkward, having some ex …” I paused. Lay? Notch? Groupie? I flipped my hand in the air. “Conquest, or whatever, around. But I can promise you I’ll stay out of your way. As long as you stay out of mine. We can just agree to be … friends, or acquaintances that need never interact ever again.”

“Are you done?” he asked.

“Actually? No. While you’re listening, you should know I’m not pregnant, but thank you for checking on that, by the way.” I looked over at him.

Jack went pale, his eyes widening.

It was satisfying.

“What?” There was a protracted silence, and he slumped back against the wall right inside the kitchen door. “But I, we—”

“Used protection? Yeah, I’ve heard that’s always one hundred percent guaranteed.” My sarcasm and bitterness was becoming an almost physical thing. I needed to rein that in. It wasn’t a comfortable outfit.

Jack unfolded one crossed arm long enough to scrub his hand down his face and blew out a harsh breath. He looked weary. Granted it was the dead of night, but Jack wore a deeper weariness.

To my annoyance, it cracked a tiny piece of the frost I’d encased myself in. I set a glass of water on the counter in front of him and made my way to the kitchen table, creating some more distance. I didn’t want to see the vulnerable Jack again. I couldn’t, wouldn’t put myself through this again. Thankfully he stayed where he was.

“You asked me what I was doing here. Just now, when I was outside.”

“Actually, I asked you what you wanted.” I started pulling at a loose thread on the cuff of my cardigan.

“Yeah, that—”

“Do you think this is a good idea? I mean, maybe we should talk tomorrow, if there’s anything else to say.”

“There’s a lot to say.”

I met his eyes, waiting for him to continue. As much as I didn’t want to look at him, I wanted to see him while he said this. I needed to. I wanted to feel every second of it so I would have no more questions when we were done.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Nothing. I felt nothing.

“It doesn’t cut it,” he went on. “I realize that. But I’m sorry.” Jack left the wall, braced his hands on the island, and hung his dark head for a second, before looking back up at me. “You have to understand something, I didn’t stay away because I wanted to. I stayed away because I had to.” Jack gritted his teeth and winced imperceptibly. “I know that doesn’t mean much to you, and I know you are dating someone else now, but I just needed you to know that. That’s all. That’s all I came to say.”

I gripped my glass of water tighter at his mention of me dating someone else. I’d been about to lift it and take a sip and his words stopped me cold. I guess he and Colt really did have a big old pow-wow on the side of the highway. Nice.

“I guess you spoke to Colt?” I was neither confirming, nor denying. But as I watched Jack carefully, and took in his tension and the way his hands gripped the counter, I realized I was admitting it. At least as far as he was concerned.

Jack nodded and cleared his throat. “He’s a good guy. Cares for you. A lot. That’s good.”

“I know,” I said simply and watched Jack’s throat bob as he swallowed. This was fascinating.

“It’s a pity for him,” he said with an even voice, “that I won’t be walking away anytime soon.”

My skin went cool, as the blood drained from my head. I think my jaw may have dropped open. I consciously closed my mouth firmly, and pulled my lips in, lest I do something as dumb as gasp. I counted to five in my head and blew a slow breath out. “You already did walk away, Jack.”

“Not from you. I never walked away from you. Not willingly.”

Okay, so technically Jack Eversea hadn’t walked away from me. If we were talking the pure ambulatory mechanism of a person moving from one place to another, and physically removing herself from a room full of tension, then yes, I walked out of Devon’s beach house the day Audrey showed up with her pregnancy news. I walked out on him again the night we were all in Savannah, right after he punched Colt in the face. But what else was I supposed to do?

I didn’t like the challenge he was throwing down like a threat. His words smacked of the assumption that if he stayed around it would automatically push Colt out of the running. “Nice to see you’re as confident as ever. I’m not some kind of trophy,” I said with disgust.

Jack’s lip twitched. “God. The things that come out of your mouth …” He shook his head, then broke into a tense chuckle. “You’re perfect.”

Jack Eversea was divinely beautiful, but Jack Eversea laughing and resting his vivid green eyes on me at the same time was a cosmic event. His smile was so sad and beautiful, it pulsed like a solar flare and shattered my crudely mended heart into a million tiny pieces.

“Jack.” I recovered then hesitated, unsure of what I wanted to say. “This is pointless. Let’s start over. Let’s … be friends who haven’t seen each other for a while, and just … catch up.”

I gripped my water and took a sip. Deciding maybe we needed some coffee, I headed back to the kitchen cupboards and glanced over to where he stood, his dimple etched into his cheek and into my heart.