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“The truth?”
She finally looked at me, and I knew then how much I had fucked up. Her eyes were brimming with it. Hurt. Confusion. Anger. She was mustering together everything she had to conduct this interview. I had stripped her down on my porch, kissed her, held her, and then I dropped all of it.
“Of course the truth. I can’t print lies.” Her words were curt. I deserved it.
I slid closer to her and moved back against the cushion. “Look, let’s stop for a second. I’m sorry.”
She straightened her shoulders. “I don’t want to talk about it. I have an interview and then a story to write. It’s getting late. Can you please just answer the questions?”
I couldn’t let it
go. My fingers brushed against her leg. “It’s not that I don’t want you.”
“Stop.” She held up a hand.
“Let me finish.” I stared hard. “I was seconds from this turning into a mistake. I saved us both from doing something we shouldn’t.”
“Wow. That’s your big speech? That makes it all better?” She threw her pad and pen on the floor. “I will add complete ass at apologizing to the headline.”
My forehead pinched together. “I said I’m sorry. I took it too far. I know I did.”
“Well, then if the mighty Mason Lachlan is sorry, then we’re all good.” She leaned over to reach for the pen, and I grabbed her arm.
“What? You don’t believe me?”
“Oh, I believe you thought it was a mistake. I know your type.”
“Type? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You think you can sleep with any girl you want and there’s no consequences to any of your decisions. You’re so gorgeous and sexy, women just line up to jump in your bed and you don’t give a shit about any of them.”
She stood and I could see she was shaking.
I rose from the couch. “Hold on, sweetheart. I stopped things from going too far. I’m the good guy here.”
“Are you?” She glared at me.
“Yes. If we had—if I had—”
“What? You didn’t think I could take it? Did you worry I would fall madly in love with you? Get over yourself.”
I shook my head. I had lost complete control of this conversation. “No, I never said that. I just know how these things go.”
“Because you have so much experiencing screwing random women?” Her hands flew to her hips.
“Yes—I mean no—that’s not why I stopped.”
“I wasn’t trying to be your next girlfriend or move in with you,” she seethed. “I just wanted to get laid. Ok?” Her eyes bore into mine.
I sat on the couch, throwing my hands over my head. Why in the hell were women so damn confusing?
“You just wanted to get laid?” I looked at her, trying to stop myself from smiling. I had never heard that one from a pretty mouth like hers.
“Yes. Why is that so hard to believe?” She slumped onto the couch next to me.
“I don’t know. Because you don’t seem like a one-night stand kind of girl.” I turned to face her. Her cheeks were flushed from arguing.
“What kind of girl do you think I am?”
