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Fuck.
I did.
But I didn’t.
“No.” I shook my head.
“I’m going to tell you anyway. I’m?—”
Her voice cut off when the bartender delivered my next round and said, “Would you like another?” to Rowan.
“Please,” she replied.
“Your food should be out in a few minutes,” he told us before he left again.
I downed what was left in my glass, set the empty on the bar top, and as I was about to change the subject, she whispered, “Cooper, look at me.”
I didn’t like it the last time she’d said that.
I didn’t like it this time either.
“Rowan—”
“Don’t try to argue. Just look at me.”
When I did, the expression on her face penetrated straight through my damn chest.
“It wouldn’t stop me because regardless of how much of an asshole you are to me, I’m wild about you. I can’t even say I’mstillwild about you. Still would imply I feel the same way now as I did before. And I don’t.” She glanced down for just a moment, and when our eyes reconnected, the emotion was intense as it stared back at me. “This—this feeling—it doesn’t even compare to when I met you here the first time.”
Her hand went to my leg. Not a place anywhere near my dick. This was a spot to ensure I was listening. “Why would I even bother saying this to you? Why would I put myself out there like this when you’ve reminded me endless times that we shouldn’t be together? When you’ve repeatedly treated me as though you hate me?” She mashed her lips together, her chest rising so high. “Because I know you don’t. Because I know you care about me. Because I know if the circumstances were different, we would be together.” She scanned my pupils like before, but this sway between my left and right eyes was filled with tenderness rather than curiosity. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
I ground my teeth together, holding the new glass of bourbon like it was a gun.
Each time I exhaled, I heard the air move out of me, waiting for the relief to come.
It never did.
What it did instead was add to the tension, the build, where I was certain there was no break.
“Rowan …”
“You don’t lie. Remember that.”
I wanted to chuckle. That was my go-to defense mechanism. My way of avoiding whatever I wanted to say. But it wasn’t there in my chest, in my throat. I couldn’t even force the sound through my mouth.
I chewed at my lip until I tasted the metallic flavor of blood. “You’re not wrong.”
“Then, why do you care what they think?”
My voice was raw and impatient as I hissed, “They’re my family.”
“Am I worth it?”
“Don’t ask me that, Rowan.”
She pushed her hand down harder. “Am I?”
“You’re asking me to choose.”
