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“No, no,” he started, coming closer as he shook his head emphatically. “I didn’t. I swear.”
I plopped my hands on my hips and leveled him with a glare. “So this is your way of accepting my invitation, by saying no, we’re not ever having sex together?”
“No. Jesus.” Grinding his teeth, he pulled on his hat, tugging it lower. “I just—you and I—we—Fucking hell, Bells. Don’t do this to me right now. You’re going to make me wish I’d just answered Angie’s call to begin with.”
My mouth dropped open. Lifting my eyebrows, I hissed, “Excuse me?”
“What?” He met my gaze as if confused by my offended tone. But as soon as he saw the hurt in my expression, he rolled his eyes. “Come on. She’s a mistake I could handle making. You are not.”
That really didn’t help.
“Wow.” Tears watered my eyes, and I had to blink rapidly to dry them. Then, I took a step back and glanced up at the ceiling because the blinking wasn’t working so well. “So I’m an even bigger mistake than psycho Angie? Always lovely to hear.”
“What? No. Whoa.” His fingers caught my elbow. “That is not what I meant.”
I sniffed and met his eyes, only to discover he sincerely looked concerned about me. Wiping at my face, I tried to calm myself as I asked, “What did you mean, then? Huh?”
“I mean, you’re a fuck of a lot more important to me than she ever was. And you’re loaded right now. So I know exactly how this would play out if you and I—well—you know. You’d regret it in the morning and start avoiding me until we never talked to each other again. Which would kill me. So, no. This isn’t happening. I’m not losing you like that. Angie, I could lose. Not you.”
“Well, too late,” I announced, giving him a tear-stained smile. “I’ve already messed that up. Because if we don’t do this, I’ll be too embarrassed about the way I shamelessly threw myself at you, and you rejected me, that I’ll never be able to look you in the eye again, anyway.”
His mouth fell open as an immensely shattered expression crossed his features. “Are you serious?” he asked quietly. “I’m fucked either way?”
“Sorry,” I said without a hint of apology. “But yeah, I’d say so.”
“Well, shit.” He ripped off his hat and ran a hand over his head. “Don’t tell me that. I don’t want to be fucked. I don’t want to lose you. I like you. You’re one of the cooler chicks in the group. Who the hell am I supposed to steal push pops from if shit gets awkward between us?”
“Let me ask you this…” I said, sniffing away the last of my almost-tears. “Would you still be turning me down right now if I didn’t have any alcohol in me?”
“I…” He blew out a long breath, stumped by the question, and then he slowly shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. But probably...not.”
While he winced as if afraid he’d answered wrong, I breathed out a relieved breath. “Really?” That must mean he was at least in some way attracted to me.
Good. I could work with that.
He shrugged, blushing slightly. “I mean, yeah. Just because we’ve never explored that path before doesn’t mean I haven’t wondered what it’d be like with you. Because I have. More than once. But—”
I set a finger against his lips, having heard enough. “Then you shouldn’t turn me down now.”
“Bells,” he rasped, removing my finger from his lips and squeezing my whole hand. His eyes searched mine desperately. “You have no idea what you’re saying. If we do this, it changes everything. Like every-fucking-thing. You get that, right?”
I opened my mouth, not even sure how I was going to answer—probably by blowing off his concerns—but he shook his head, knowing me too well. “No, this is a huge deal. We could never do some one-night stand or casual, on-and-off hooking up. Not with how close our families are. It would have to be pretty damn permanent, right from the get-go. And sorry, but you’re not capable of making that kind of decision right now. Hell…” He let go of me to grip the bill of his hat with both hands and search my eyes. “I’m not in a stable enough position to make that kind of decision sober. So we can’t…” He dropped his arms heavily at his sides and stepped back, putting space between us. Space that hurt. “We just can’t. Okay?”
Realizing he was right—we couldn’t treat anything between us carelessly or hastily—I nodded and hugged myself, feeling suddenly gross for even having brought it up.
“Okay,” I whispered. Against my will, my chin wobbled, and a sob tore up my throat. “I’m sorry.”
“What? No.” Stepping toward me, he took me in his arms and hugged me. “Damn it, don’t do that, Bells. Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s…” I hiccupped and grabbed the material of his shirt tight as I hid my face in his chest. “It’s not your fault. You’re being all awesome and honorable and sweet, trying to do the right thing. And I’m…” Sniffing as more tears fell, I bowed my face in shame and squeezed my eyes tight. I might not be too drunk to decide if I wanted sex or not, but I was too drunk to keep my emotions in check, it seemed.
“I’ve been a mess since ending my engagement. Because of what it all did to me inside my head. I never knew I was the kind of person who could be so easily deceived. I’m not the shrewd, insightful badass that can spot a liar and a cheater right off the bat, like I always thought I would be. I’m just a gullible idiot. And I—I just don’t know. I’m just sorry I messed everything up between you and me, too. I—”
“No, no,” he insisted. “You’re not an idiot at all. And there’s absolutely no way you could mess anything up between us. Not because of one drunk night.” Pulling back so he could see my face, he set a finger under my chin and urged me to look up at him. When I refused to open my eyes, he kissed my forehead gently. “Listen to me. Tonight will in no way affect the way I feel about you. Hell, if anything, I’ll probably like you even more now.”
Startled to hear that, I opened my eyes. “Really?”
People usually left when they got too close and learned how pathetic I actually was.
