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Those words sting but I ignore the pain. Indy’s lashing out at me because I hurt her. This is my fault and I need to accept responsibility.
“I’m sorry I mentioned we kissed to my band.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. The movement pushes her breasts up and I nearly groan at the sight. I love all of Indy’s curves but her breasts are my favorite.
“How dare you tell your band about us kissing? It was private. You may live your life in the limelight, but I don’t. And I don’t want to.”
Her words give me pause. Should I stop my pursuit of her? She doesn’t want to live her life in the public’s eye and I don’t have a choice but to live my life in the public’s eye.
But when I gaze into her hazel eyes blazing with anger, I know I won’t give her up. Not again. I went down that road once and it led me straight to hell.
“I’m sorry. I was wrong. It won’t happen again.”
“Darn right, it won’t because you and I won’t be kissing again.”
We sure the hell will be kissing again – we’ll be doing a lot more than kissing – but I don’t say those words out loud. Despite the stupid things I’ve said over the past hour, I’m not a complete idiot.
“And I am not yours.”
Indy is mine, but I jumped the gun by announcing it in front of her and the band. I need to have patience – a trait I am not known for. I need time to convince Indy to give me another chance. But I will convince her.
I shrug my shoulders and feign nonchalance. “You were mine.”
“But I’m not anymore. I haven’t been yours for a long time.”
“I never should have let you go,” I murmur.
“Why did you let me go?”
Shit. I’m not admitting why I left her. I’m never admitting the truth. It would break her heart. And I’m done hurting her.
“I was an idiot.”
She rolls her eyes. “Duh.”
Relief fills me. She’s letting it go.
“You being an idiot is given, but what reason did your idiot brain come up with for dumping me?”
Damn. She’s not letting it go.
“Can’t you just let it go?”
Her eyes narrow and I realize I’m being an idiot again. Indigo Scott doesn’t let anything go.
“I don’t know why I try with you. If you can’t be honest with me, we can’t be friends.”
I smile. “We’re friends?”
“Do you have a hearing problem? I literally said we can’t be friends five seconds ago.”
“All I heard was friends.”
“Must be nice having selective hearing. You can go about your merry way without worrying about anyone or anything. You don’t have to concern yourself with paparazzi showing up at your house, invading your private sanctuary.”
I growl. “I’m sorry that idiot broke into your house.”
She snorts. “Yeah, sorry. Sure, you are.”
