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Maybe I was worried he’d judge me.
Or maybe I was concerned that if I let him in further, it would be hard to maintain this edge. Because even as I looked at him now, knowing what he was capable of, it was impossibly difficult to force away what I really wanted.
And that was him.
“When I left you in the parking lot that morning after you spent the night with me, things were good. You took my number. You kissed me good-bye. I assumed, at least from the way you were acting, that you’d be in touch. That didn’t happen, and on top of it all, you acted as if you didn’t even want me to talk to you. To go from one extreme to the other, something had to have happened.” His brows pushed together. “What was it?”
“It’s just the timing of it all. It’s wrong—I’ve told you that. My life is muddy and—”
“That could be a reason you don’t want us together, but it’s not the reason you were extra spicy this evening.” He leaned over the table, moving closer to me. “But just for a second, let’s talk about timing. Because you weren’t bothered by the timing when I was stripping you naked, or bothered when we spent hours fucking in my hotel room, or bothered when you came in my shower—twice.”
“You invited me into your shower. I didn’t just come in.”
“You misheard me, Brooklyn. I said youcamein my shower twice. I wasn’t talking about why or how you’d gotten into my bathroom.”
My face instantly reddened.
“Let’s go back to my question … what happened?”
I glanced at my hands, my fingers moving like I was going to crack them, but I didn’t pull hard enough to make the sound.
I couldn’t tell him it was a gut feeling I had; that was stupid.
What can I say?
What can I …
“I came to the hotel the other day to talk to you.”Have I lost it? Am I really going to tell him that I made the effort to come see him? Shit, it’s too late now.“As I was walking through the lobby toward the elevators, I saw you in the bar with another woman.”
“You saw me”—he paused, rubbing a hand through his hair—“and you assumed, and that’s the reason you treated me that way?”
“I assumed nothing. You were in her face—”
“Let’s get one thing straight. She was inmyface.”
“Her hand was on your arm—”
“Which fell from my arm once I declined her advances and stood to leave, but not before I told her I was going to spend the evening talking to my wife. A description I used for you, Brooklyn. Because since the second you came into my life, I’ve no longer wanted to touch any other woman.” His head dropped, his eyes staying on me. “But I couldn’t call you—you hadn’t given me your number. So, I called my best friend, Camden, instead as I walked away from her and sat outside by the pool.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“I understand.” He took a breath. “You saw us together, you didn’t like it, and your brain filled in the missing pieces. But what you could have done was come into the bar. Or if that made you uncomfortable, you could have called and told me, and we could have spoken about it.”
“We’re talking about it now.”
He turned quiet after my statement and then laughed. “I understand you’re defending yourself, but there was no reason anything before this moment needed to take place. We could have come straight here—to this moment—so the both of us were satisfied and you understood exactly what you had seen.” He paused, his stare now taking in my whole face. “What I find interesting is that you were even bothered. For someone who keeps preaching about time and muddiness, why would you be upset if I was talking to another woman?”
And there it was—the hole I now found myself in.
“You don’t want me, but you don’t want me with anyone else.” His finger brushed across my hand. “You can’t have it both ways, Brooklyn.”
His smile was eating at me.
So was the tone of his voice.
The knowing look in his eyes.
I couldn’t win this.
