I shake my head. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
Now my annoyance flickers back to life. “Why don’t you tell me? You were the one with all the reasons this is a bad idea before.”
“That’s not fair,” he says. “I’m just saying…”
“You’re just saying,” I prompt when he doesn’t go on.
“Never mind,” he mutters. “I don’t want to fight with you.”
I bite back my reply—because I don’t want to fight with him either—and chop faster.
“Do you want to go to dinner tonight?”
“Why? So you can take me home for another round without having to worry about getting me pregnant again?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I shrug. “You know you’ve thought it.”
“Actually no.” A flicker of hurt crosses his face. “I haven’t thought that, Harp.”
Guilt slices through me but I shove it down.
I know I’m being a bitch. I just…
“Look,” I say on a sigh. “We both know that last night was a mistake that can’t happen again.” Because I can’t let it happen, not if I want to keep my heart safe.
“Was it?”
“Yes,” I say then add when he opens his mouth, his eyes flashing with annoyance, “We can’t all be hockey players who live in fantasy land. Friends don’t fuck. Co-parents don’t either. And that’s all we’ll ever be.”
“Harp—”
“Fuck, Leo,” I snap, slamming down my knife. “I need to work. Which means you have to go.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I jerk my chin toward the door. “We scratched an itch but it didn’t mean anything. Now I have real work to do. So…” I wave my hands at him. “Shoo.”
There’s another flash of hurt dancing across his face.
But it disappears a second later.
Then he just shakes his head.
And leaves.
And I hate that I still can’t ignore the ache I feel as he walks away.
Twenty-Four
Leo
I’m so pissed I can barely think straight, so I don’t go directly back to my car.
Instead, I take a walk and try to find some sort of balance.
