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The fun that had sweetened her voice with the American man had disappeared. She was cold and quiet. He missed the happiness he’d seen on her face as she’d played pool and flirted with that hulking guy. Somewhere, deep in his gut, the recognition that he did nothing but make her miserable twisted him up, shredding him angrily.
“You are drunk?”
“So?” She thrust her hands on her hips and glared at him. The sound of footsteps scuffled nearby and she looked over his shoulder, lifting a hand in acknowledgement of the Fredericksons before spinning on her heel and walking quickly away.
“And I’m not, anyway,” she muttered as they went. “A few beers, that’s all.”
“And a shot of whisky?”
She sent him a fulminating glare. “Seriously? I mean actually, how dare you?”
A muscle jerked in his cheek as he acknowledged the fairness of her statement. “That man wanted to have sex with you.”
Her laugh was without humour. “Oh, how dreadful of him. I suppose he wouldn’t have even offered to pay me afterwards.”
She had the satisfaction of seeing his face pale beneath her scrutiny. Good. He should feel the pain of her words.
“I didn’t intend to pay you for sex. I wanted to give you money. And I wanted you.” He tilted his face, lancing her with the darkness in his eyes.
“Yeah, well, that’s pretty much the same thing.” She stared straight ahead, chasing the landmarks of the street, searching for reassurance. “Why are you back here?”
“Because we failed,” he said throatily. He reached down and curled his fingers around her wrist, pulling her to a stop. She stared up at him with the same expression on her face a kitten might offer a street dog about to maul it. Self-disgust robbed him of the desire that had been rampant in his system. He lifted his hands and cupped her face, stroking her cheeks gently, holding her tilted towards him. “I’m not over you.”
The words burst around her; they were an admission she couldn’t listen to. “Yeah, well. Tough. I’m over you.”
His expression was sardonic, but she was in no mood to be patronised by this man.
“I mean it, Sy.” And the use of the diminutive form of his name did something odd inside of him. It was like a goodbye and an acknowledgement, all rolled into one. “I might always want you physically, but I’ll never love you again. I’ll probably never even like you again.”
He was very still, his body held together with determination alone.
“And I want to get married; I want the whole happily-ever-after.” The admission throbbed out of her mouth on a small sob. “I want to find someone I can share my life with, whom I respect and who sure as hell respects me. That would never be you. I want to find someone who can be a daddy to Lexi – she deserves that. Someone who loves her as much as I do. Someone who wants what’s in our best interests. I want to find someone who loves me for all of me, even the bad stuff. That’s never going to be you. So why are you here?”
He shook his head, as her words clarified something strange in his chest.
“Why?” She repeated, a strangled sound of desperation.
He needed to do this right. He had one chance. “We will discuss it tomorrow. When you no longer have alcohol in your blood and that man’s stink on your body.”
She flinched and he swore inwardly. Great. Just the right thing to say when she was already dangling by a thread, barely tolerating his presence.
“Screw you.” She pulled away from him violently and stormed down the street. “I don’t need to stand here and listen to this.”
She walked quickly, desperate now to get home and be back in her bed. Alone. He followed her, his expression apologetic. “No, you don’t. Nor do you need to meet me tomorrow. But I am asking you to make time to talk to me.”
“And I’m telling you, I can’t.” She crossed her arms over her chest and now he swore aloud. She was cold. He’d been so angry, he hadn’t realised. He shrugged out of his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders gently.
She didn’t reach for it, but nor did she push it away.
“Once upon a time, maybe. But I was a different person then. So different.” She bit down on her lip, not wanting to remember the care-free girl she had once been.
“So let me get to know you again.”
“Why? You’re going to go away again.” And now the rage plasma exploded through her, burning her good sense with ash and anger. “You don’t get it, do you? I never got over you. You have been the only man I have ever wanted. The only man I have ever loved. The only man I have ever slept with! You broke me, when you left. I can’t go through it again. I’m not a toy and this isn’t a game. You can’t just turn up here and mess around with me.” She pushed at his coat now, gripping it in a balled fist and passing it to him. “You can’t be here.”
And she turned, and ran.
Not so fast that he couldn’t catch her, but Syed didn’t try. He was unfolding the words she’d just thrown at him, assessing them for truth, and deciding that surely they couldn’t carry any. She’d conveniently forgotten her daughter’s father, obviously.
