“Mable—”
“I need space, Caldwell.Please.” The last word cracks.
He doesn’t stop me when I walk to the bedroom. But I feel his eyes on me the whole way. I don’t know if I’m running from him or from how much I want to believe him.
I barely make it to the bedroom before the tears start. I swipe at them angrily, hating how silly and weak I feel and how much this hurts. It’s just a fling, vacation sex… a man I met yesterday.Okay, Mable, just because you keep saying it doesn’t make it true.
I notice a slight shake of my hands as I grab my suitcase and throw it on the bench at the end of the bed. Why did I ever think that I could do this?
I need to get out of here. Once I’m back in my home and tucked away in a library, it will all be okay. I’ll be safe again. I’ll go back to who I was, and that will make this fade away. I’m stuffing clothes into the bag when the door opens behind me.
“Mable.” His voice is rough, desperate. I hate how much of an effect it has on me. “Don’t.”
“Go away.” I don’t turn around. I can’t look at him. I’ll cave. Clearly, I’m a sucker. “You have a wedding to get ready for. Your date is waiting.”
I hear him cross the room and feel him behind me. His hand closes over mine, stopping me from folding another sweater.
“Please.”
“I can’t stay here.” My voice cracks. “I can’t be the girl you play with while you’re waiting for your real date. I’m not built for that, Caldwell. I know I’m not exciting or interesting or…”
He spins me around so fast I gasp. His hand comes to my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes are burning with something I don’t understand, but it makes my stomach tighten.
I want so badly for him to prove me all wrong.
Chapter Eight
CALDWELL
The hurt in her eyes hits my center mass, like a hot knife wedging itself deep inside of me, taking my breath away momentarily. Not only because of the impact but also the reality of how fast she has become the center of my world.
Sure, I knew she was the one. It was a sense I had from the very start. Fate put me on that plane with her, but the sensation of what it would feel like to lose her and hurt her only brings it home all the more. I have to come clean; it’s the only way. It was stupid of me to hide it. Starting off on a lie is never good.
“Cordelia is nobody,” I say, my voice rougher than I intend. I need her to understand; I need her to see that whatever she read on that phone screen means nothing. I’ll start there because I know I would have lost my ever-loving mind if this were flipped. I’m still reeling from my reaction to the room service guy. “A family friend. My mother arranged it. I was supposed to take her to the wedding.”
Mable’s robe has fallen open again; one shoulder has completely slipped off, but I force my eyes to stay on her face, hating the doubt clouding those green eyes I can’t stop thinkingabout. Even when I close my eyes, they are there. I step closer, needing to touch her.
“She means nothing to me. A family friend my mother wanted me to take to the wedding.”
“Well, we don’t want to disappoint your mommy now, do we?” She places her hand on her hips, and if I weren’t panicking inside, I’d smile at her pushback, knowing it’s not typical of who she is but that she’s mad enough or comfortable enough to do so. That means something.
Fuck me, though. She’s not wrong. I went along with it because it was easy and wouldn’t hurt anything, but how very wrong I’d been in that train of thought. I’m usually good at looking ahead and predicting what’s to come, but I never saw Mable coming. If I’d known she was out there, I would have hunted her down years ago.
“You said you didn’t have a date,” she whispers, and I hear the disappointment and vulnerability there, the fear that she’s been played. That I’m just another fuckboy trying to get off and I’ll lie if I have to. I had lied, but it wasn’t about sex. Sure, that would come, but it’s not what this was all about.
I step closer to her, and she doesn’t retreat when I trace her jaw with my thumb, gentling my touch even as my body screams at me to claim her.
“I don’t. What I have with Cordelia is easy. I wouldn’t call that a date. It’s an understanding.”
“An understanding. It’s called a ‘situationship.’” She rolls her eyes and tries to turn away from me, but I grip her chin, holding her in place, needing her eyes on me.
“What do you know about a situationship?” I grumble before I can stop myself. Fire lights up in her eyes, and I know I’ve fucked up. Here I am getting pissed again, thinking about her with anyone when I’m the one that maybe has plans to see Cordelia today. It’s all just for convenience. Cordelia was alreadygoing to be here, and we would cross paths. I’m not going to pick her up, and we have an unspoken mutual understanding that there’s nothing between us. Never has been and never will be.
“What did you say?” A small growl leaves her, and it’s adorable as hell.
“I have never had a situationship.” I make that clear. “Nor have I ever done anything with Cordelia except that stupid fucking double-kiss-on-the-cheek shit I hate.”
I release her chin but don’t step back. I’m not giving her space, not right now. If she really wanted me gone, she could say one word, but she hasn’t, and hell, I don’t know if the word would stop me at this point.
