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Because she didn’t feel the same way.
He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t—or hold any hard feelings. They went into this with an understanding. It was fake. A ruse to keep her mother off her back, which unfortunately wasn’t working as well as they had hoped. Her mother was a tenacious woman.
He loved Jezebelle, but if she didn’t return his feelings, he’d survive. He’d move on. Like he always did in life. Like he had with his father. Like he had with his brother.
Although, he planned to make amends with his brother. Or attempt to. Corey might have a different say in the matter.
He refilled his glass of water and chugged it this time, pretending it was a smooth glass of whiskey sliding down his throat instead.
The glass hit the counter with a soft clink when she finally returned. He forced himself to let go before he shattered the glass in his hand.
The look on her face said they were about to have the conversation he’d been waiting for and he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.
She took a seat on one of the barstools. He remained standing on the other side of the counter. A small barrier between them. He hated it.
Another quiet clang reverberated around the room when the ring that should’ve been on her finger hit the counter.
A sharp, piercing pain centered in his chest. That weight he had gloriously felt being lifted slammed back into him like a landslide crushing him to death.
He screwed up so badly, she didn’t even want to continue the ruse.
She pushed the ring closer to his side.
“I had such a wonderful day today.” She licked her bottom lip.
Yeah, he was nervous, too. He didn’t want to hear what else she had to say, yet he remained quiet so she could get it all out at once. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as deeply.
“My sister adores you.” She chuckled as she looked away from him and started to fiddle with her finger that had worn his ring. “I know my mother can be overbearing. Like, way overbearing. But family is important.”
She lifted her gaze, pain swimming in the depths. He wanted to reach out and touch her, soothe and comfort her somehow. He didn’t move a muscle, though.
“I need you to give your brother his ring. It’s not right what happened.” She pressed her lips together as if forcing herself to not say anything else.
Maybe something like how shitty his father was blaming his son for his misdeeds. Or how sad it was their grandmother wasn’t alive for Corey to make amends.
He picked up the ring and put it in his pocket.
It had to be done. He was thankful she understood that. It made it easier on him not to have to ask for the ring back.
But it still hurt like hell it was over between them. What could he say to stop it? To keep her forever?
“You’re not going to say anything?” Another swipe of her tongue swept across her bottom lip.
“I had a great day, too.”
She frowned when he didn’t continue. How could he express everything rolling around in his heart and mind? It was like a minefield of erratic emotions. Fury. Relief. Terror. Love.
“Thank you for the ring. I was going to ask for it back.” He bent his head, regretting how that came out. Because that was far from how he felt. He lifted his gaze and tried to smile. “That’s not what I meant. I—”
“I know. I know what you meant. He deserves to have the ring back. I can tell my mother my ring is getting cleaned or resized or something if she asks.”
His heart stopped.
“What?”
Her teeth dug into her bottom lip, then her tongue swept across it. “I mean, we’re still engaged, right? Even without the ring? I mean, fake engaged. Like, we’re still—”
He hopped up on the counter, framed her face, brushing his thumbs across her delicate skin before kissing her, cutting off whatever else she had to say. He started slow, soothing and caressing, then turned up the heat, swooping his tongue in as if staking his claim. Letting her know with every sweep of his tongue, with every brush of his lips he wasn’t going anywhere. She was his. Always.
