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No way, he couldn’t possibly know that. It was just a lucky guess.
She bucked again, but no joy. ‘What makes you think this isn’t exactly what I want? Maybe I prefer no-strings sex. And I don’t want commitment.’
‘No point in using the C word to scare me off. It won’t work.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Yeah, you do. And I get it, Tally.’ His voice took on a persuasive tone, the understanding in his gaze slicing right through her belligerence. ‘My ex-wife made me feel like shit and I believed her. If someone did that to you too, you can tell me about it. I won’t judge, I swear.’
How could he see so much, so easily? When no other man had ever even bothered to look? ‘Fine. Yes, there was someone. But he was an arsehole and I dumped him. End of story.’
‘What did he do?’ he said softly, cutting through the last of the defences she’d worked so hard for so long to keep in place.
‘Why do you want to know?’ How could she tell him what an idiot she’d been?
‘Jesus, Tally, isn’t it obvious? Because I care about you. I want to take this further. And I think you do too. But how can we do that if you won’t level with me?’
She could see he meant it. ‘We can’t take it further.’
‘Why not?’
Because you won’t care about me once you know.
She shook her head, tried to free her wrists. She couldn’t tell him the truth. That she’d been a fool. That Henry had used her, and she’d let him. She should have guessed why he could never meet her on weekends. Why he never gave her a home number. Why he always came to hers, and never wanted her to come to his. She’d thrown herself at him, adored the attention, the sex, had assumed it meant so much more—and had never once questioned why he would want her. Ultimately, she’d been no better than all those women she’d despised as a child who had thrown themselves at her father.
‘Come on, Tally, give me an answer I can understand. Why not?’
‘Because I’m scared, okay. I’m terrified.’ The words burst out before she could stop them. ‘I thought I loved him. I thought he loved me. And I was wrong. All I was to him was an available fuck when his wife wouldn’t put out. I can’t go through that feeling again, of being nothing. Of being so ashamed. Of longing for something and then feeling like I don’t deserve it.’
To her horror tears seeped out of her eyes and the choking sensation in her throat got worse. Cutting off the words, making it impossible for her to lead with her anger. Humiliation scoured her cheeks. She shut her eyes. She couldn’t look at him, didn’t want him to see her.
‘That’s bullshit, Tally. He was married, not you. He was the one that lied. Why should you feel bad abo
ut that?’
‘Because I never asked. Because I didn’t care.’ She bit her lip, the feeling rushing up her torso like a pressure cooker about to blow.
‘Yes, you did care,’ he said with complete conviction. ‘Or you wouldn’t still be so cut up about it now.’
Climbing off her, he scooped her up in his arms.
God, what was happening to her? It felt as though everything was disintegrating. All the anger and the fear she’d held inside for so long crumbled like a wall of dust until all that was left was the hurt—the great big gaping wound in her torso opening up to suck her inside.
The first sob wrenched up from her stomach and burst out of her mouth. Then the tears flowed and wouldn’t stop. The same tears she’d refused to shed two years ago cascaded out of her now. On a wave of misery.
‘It’s okay, I’ve got you.’ His hand rubbed her back as she nestled her head under his chin. She curled into the solid, steady warmth he offered. She wanted to disappear into him, to roll herself into a tiny ball and blow away—the way she had as a child, when she could hear her mother crying and her father’s shouted denials. Blaming the women he’d screwed—for leading him on, for being whores—instead of admitting that he was the one who’d been in the wrong.
The sound of her sobs was brittle and hoarse, hacking coughs of emotional pain. But above it she could hear Brent’s deep soothing voice saying, ‘It wasn’t you, Tally, it was him.’
She heard the steady thunder of his heart as the wrenching sobs finally began to subside.
‘He sounds like a real arsehole-ed-ness.’ His murmur had a laugh choking out.
‘It’s not a noun.’ She gazed at the handsome face above her, and the last few jagged edges inside her smoothed over at what she saw. Not judgement, or disgust, but simple understanding. ‘But yes, he definitely was.’
‘More than me?’
‘Much more than you. You’re not an arsehole. You’re not even a hard-ass.’ She touched his cheek. ‘You great big faker.’
