#chapter Thirty
“I’ve never been a flower for anyone else.” Maura looked up at Daniel. She’d been resting her head on his lap while they watched a movie, but it was one they’d both seen before, and they’d fallen into conversation instead of paying attention.
“I’d never think of you as a flower. You’re pretty enough.” Daniel poked her side to make her wiggle. “But you’re stronger than a flower.”
Maura sat up and turned on the couch to pull her knees to her chest. She tucked her cold toes beneath his thigh to warm them. “First of all, flowers can be super strong. They grow through asphalt. Concrete. Anything. But also, I’m not strong, not at all.”
“Yes, you are.”
She studied him, not wanting to fish for a compliment but genuinely curious about what he thought about her. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I know your heart’s breaking, and you don’t show it.” Daniel shrugged, his gaze going distant for a moment.
At that, Maura got up on her knees to lean toward him. She took his collar and kissed him, slow and sweet. “You know something, Mr. Petruzzi? You are pretty fucking awesome.”
He laughed and pulled her onto his lap. “You think so, huh?”
“I do.” She nodded, settling close to him. “Just thought you should know.”
“The feeling’s mutual. And everyone should get to hear they’re awesome once in a while. Flowers do need water. You’re right.”
Maura frowned a little before she could stop herself. “No. You’re right. I’m not a flower. I guess maybe I never was.”
“Sorry,” he said after a moment. “I shouldn’t have said that. I know you wouldn’t want me to call you the same thing he did.”
“I don’t compare you,” she told him. “I want you to know that.”
“Of course you do. How could you help it?” He pulled her closer, tucking an arm around her so she could press her face to his chest.
Maura sighed. “I don’t compare you unfavorably. How about that? I mean, if anyone is compared unfavorably it’s him, not you. You’re —”
“Awesome. I get it.”
She looked up at his tone. The frown. He didn’t look mad, but the conversation had taken a sudden dip.
“Daniel…”
He stared past her at the TV, mouth a grim line. Maura got off his lap to sit next to him, their easy affection now strained. Together they watched in silence until finally, he said in a low voice without looking at her, “Pretty fucking close to perfect, right? Except for the fact I can’t get it up. And don’t…don’t say it doesn’t matter, Maura. Because we both know it does.”
“I wasn’t going to say it doesn’t matter.”
He looked at her then, and it made her sad to see his pain. “Good.”
“I like being with you,” she told him. “I always did, even back then.”
“When we fucked like rabbits.”
She laughed, not embarrassed. “Yes. But I liked hanging out with you then, too. And I still do. I have fun with you, Daniel.”
“I have fun with you, too.”
She inched closer to rest her head on his shoulder. She took his hand, lacing their fingers together. He was silent, listening, while she tried to find the best words to say. Truth that wouldn’t sting or hurt his pride.
“In some ways, it’s better this way. For now. For me, I mean. Less pressure, I guess.”
Daniel snorted soft laughter. “Uh huh.”
Maura poked him. “Just listen to me, okay? I’m in no place to be getting involved with someone seriously right now. All those dates I went on were a ridiculous effort. Wasted. I’m sure at least a few of them were nice guys, maybe even compatible with me, but I wasn’t interested in them. It wasn’t fair to them, what I was doing. Trying to prove a stupid point.”
“It wasn’t stupid.” He paused. “The spreadsheet might’ve been a little excessive.”
She poked him again, harder this time. “I’m organized.”
“You’re in love with Ian,” Daniel said without accusation in his voice. He looked down at her. “But I won’t lie, I’m kind of glad he was a dumbass who didn’t grab you tight when he had the chance.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it.” He leaned to kiss her, taking his time. He pulled her onto his lap again.
The kissing went on long enough to sent a flicker of heat through her, and Maura broke the kiss with a small sigh. She pressed her forehead to his. “Why do you keep seeing me? Knowing I’m not over Ian?”
He scritch-scratched her back in the way that made her want to purr. “Well, first of all, because you keep wanting to see me.”
They laughed.
“Because I like you, duh.” He shifted her weight on him. “You’re smart and funny and not bad to look at. You’re sexy as hell. You’ve got your shit together, mostly.”
Maura made a face. “I thought you knew me.”
“I do know you. And I know what it’s like to miss someone and want to be with them when you can’t. And I’m leaving soon.” He ran a fingertip over her collarbone then up her throat to her chin, tickling her to come closer. “I could’ve spent all this time alone, but that would’ve been boring as shit. Better to hang out with a cool chick like you who doesn’t expect more than I can give.”
It was a little bit of an echo of what Ian had said, and it didn’t sit well with her even though she’d said much the same thing herself a few minutes before. She frowned anyway. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he told her hastily. “Just that…well, if I started seeing anyone seriously, they’d want to move it toward the bedroom. Hell, even if it wasn’t that serious. And it’s tough, Mo. Telling a woman I can’t make love to her. I’ve had to do it three times now, and you’re the first one who didn’t act like I told her I had something contagious.”
She toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “Have you…umm, I don’t know, seen a doctor?”
“It’s not physical.” He said this too shortly, a little too harsh, but she didn’t take it personally.
“Any kind of doctor?”
“You mean a shrink.” She thought he might pull away from her when she nodded, but Daniel only shrugged. “No. You’re not the first person to suggest it, though.”
“It might help you.”
“To talk about my loss? The grieving process?” He sounded so scornful she didn’t want to push it, but then he looked at her, and his expression softened. “Sorry. I’m being a little bit of an asshole.”
She’d never actually been with a man who said he was sorry for that, right up front, and she told him so.
Daniel laughed. “My wife told me once that any man who could admit he was being an asshole would always get extra bonus points for doing it. The trick was, she said, was not just admitting being a jerk, but then stopping whatever it was you were doing that was making you an asshole in the first place.”
“Sounds like good advice.”
“She had a lot of good advice.” His voice cracked, and he put a hand over his eyes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I miss her so fucking much.”
Maura put her arms around him, pulling his head to her. She stroked his hair while his shoulders heaved. She wasn’t used to men’s tears. Silent, unsure of what to offer but the comfort of her embrace, she waited until he’d stopped shaking. She kissed the top of his head and squeezed him closer.
“Shit. I’m sorry.” He sat up and rubbed at his face, clearly embarrassed.
“Don’t be sorry. Friends take care of each other. That’s what we do,” she told him sternly. “Don’t be sorry for that.”
He shifted her weight on his lap. “If I tell you something, as a friend, I hope you won’t take it the wrong way.”
Maura’s brows lifted. “What?”
“My leg fell asleep. You’re killing me.” Daniel grimaced.
They both started laughing, and it cycled up and up while she climbed off the couch and he stood, hopping on one leg to get the other back to life. Then they laughed some more until the hilarity softened and faded and they both flopped back onto the couch to wipe away tears that could’ve been grief or joy, it was too hard to tell the difference. And maybe, she thought as she snuggled up against him to finish watching the movie, it didn’t really matter.