Page 92 of Bastard Bartender

He just doesn’t get it.

I take the seat on the bed again and plead with him, “Just because you flipped a coin, and it happened to land on heads doesn’t mean it will happen again. You got lucky this time. What happens when you don’t?”

“That’s my choice to make.”

“It is.” I clench my fingers around the sheet beside me, hating how I feel so out of control by the situation. Hating that as much as my heart aches and my chest tightens, he doesn’t seem fazed at all by any of this.

I can’t carry this burden alone. Not in this relationship, not in any.

“You see, Nic, you were right. I wanted a bad boy because I’m not brave enough to take the risks. I’m envious,” I say with a smile that’s disguising the flush of emotion ready to pour from my eyes. “For some reason, I’ve associated my grandfather with that excitement. But I can’t do it. I can’t handle waiting by the phone to know where you are because you decided you needed some space for a few days. Or worry if you’re going to be okay when you’re out, living whatever wild adventure you do. It’s a shame really because this mysterious way of yours is what I love the most. You aren’t afraid to live. But I love you too much to worry that you won’t come back to me.”

Nic tries to sit up and then stops, clenching his side, as if the motion caused him pain. He fights through it and sits up a little more. “Evette, yesterday scared you, and I understand. This was an accident, okay? Nothing bad happened. You have to trust me.”

“I do. I don’t think you’d purposefully try to get hurt.”

“I might not be afraid to die, but I’m not an idiot.”

I laugh at that because his smile is so damn charming. “Let me ask you this. What if there were just a few concessions? I love the sport cars through the mountains, hiking, and camping, and I can even handle you leaping into a lake—although my heart was in my throat that day.”

He laughs hard and then clenches his side again.

When he’s settled, I continue, “But no more BASE jumping. Or skydiving or white water rafting on your own, where you lose your phone and then get lost, only to return three days later.”

“Cariño—”

“Say you’ll stop. For me.”

His jaw tightens as he looks down. The pain in his face isn’t from his injuries. It’s because he’s upset by what he’s about to say. “I can’t be with someone who will stop me from living my life.”

My heart drops at his words.

He’s said this before, and I can’t argue with it. At the core of this man is someone who will do what he wants because it is what pleases him.

I take a shaky breath and nod in understanding. “And I can’t be with someone who doesn’t love me enough to make his life worth living.”

Nic places a hand on my cheek. “You don’t mean that.”

A tear falls from my eye and lands on his palm. “I do.”

The girl who went on an experiment to meet a man based on the letter of his name, who fell so hard for a man who made her decide she’d give up a job to pursue, is now going to do what is finally right.

She’s got to put herself first.

His eyes close as I lean into him, placing my forehead against his. “You’ll change your mind. You’ll see it’s not bad what I—”

“I’m leaving, Nicolás.” I sit up, moving away from him before he causes me to change my mind. “I have a job offer in New York. Running events for Madison Square Garden. I was going to tell you last night, but this happened.”

His face falls. “You’re moving away?”

I nod and stand, knowing I need to just get up and leave or I’ll never have the nerve to do so. “It’s an offer I’d be a fool to refuse.”

There’s a pause in the air that feels ripe with tension as Nic clenches his jaw and stares at the ground, then the wall, the window, the ceiling—everywhere but at me. My breath is halted as I wait for him to say something to make me stay. Tell me he loves me, needs me, wants me to stay, or will come with me. I know I already told him I’m leaving, but at this moment, I realize how desperately I want him to not want me to.

His gaze finds mine, and I become lost in it. Lost in the green and flecks of gold that are hidden unless you are searching for them. I’ve stared deeply into his many times, like now, when he’s holding my stare and looking at me, searching my soul, asking for the answer to a question even though he’s not saying a word.

His face falls slightly, like he’s hurt or scared. His mouth parts, and just as he’s about to speak, he blinks, and it’s as if the spell is broken. The thought he had has vanished.

His jaw relaxes as does his gaze. With a lift of his chin and a pinch to his lips, he declares, “You should do it. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I’m sure.” His tone is even without a trace of apprehension.