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Realizing it’s pointless trying to fight this and knowing we will only end up going in circles, I let my hand settle back into my lap and sit in the tension-filled silence until we finally pull into his long driveway.
My lips press into a hard line. I haven’t been here in ages, and now that he’s closed himself off to me, I’m starting to regret the decision to come here. Over the past few years, I’ve purposefully gone out of my way to avoid his home, because every time I’m here, I picture how it could be or what my life might look like if we were ever to be together. The kitchen I’d cook for him in. The shower we’d share as we told our war stories from the day. The bedroom we’d make love in. The nursery where we’d raise a child.
Shit.
This is exactly why I shouldn’t be here. I get carried away, and now I’ve backed myself into a corner. Is it too late to tell him to turn around and take me home? It’s after two in the morning. He wouldn’t mind. He’d do it without question, but I’ve already stolen too much of his night. Not to mention, if he were to drive me back to my apartment, it’d be almost three before he finally got home and got to sleep. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed with him right now, but I’m not a completely careless bitch.
I can handle one night. I think.
All I need to do is find the spare room, lock the door behind me, and go to bed. Hell, I can even pretend I’m on a tropical island instead of in the home I’ve spent the past few years dreaming of sharing with him.
What could possibly go wrong?
29
IZAAC
Aspen storms inside my home, and I watch after her, my brows furrowed. She’s had one hell of a night. The last thing she needs is to have it out with me again. Yet as she finds the spare room and shoves the door open, I find myself following her in. “What the fuck is wrong with you now?” I demand, instantly regretting both my choice of words and my tone.
She whips around, her eyes wide. “Are you fucking kidding me? Holy shit, Izaac. You must be fucking blind to your own bullshit,” she says. “Where do I even start? You come to my rescue. You panic when I’m in trouble. You get jealous when I consider being with other men. Any of that ring a bell for you?”
She gives me an expectant stare, and when I don’t respond, she continues.
“Have it your way,” she snaps. “When you’re inside of me, you insist on holding my stare. When I need comfort, you hold my hand like you’d never let it go. When you think you’re about to lose me, you sit at my fucking door for hours until I give you the time of day to try and make it right. And yet you have the audacity to insist that I don’t mean anything to you.”
“Birdy—”
“No. No more Birdy. No more anything,” she tells me. “When I was in those bushes, I was terrified, and the only thing that gave me focus was the words you whispered to me, and then you had the fucking balls to shut down when I asked you if you meant it.”
She shakes her head, and I don’t respond, sensing that she’s not even close to being done. “I’m sick of this shit, Izaac. I’m sick of watching you start to open up only to put your walls back in place and act like I don’t mean a damn thing. It’s fucking bullshit,” she says, stopping to meet my stare, her green eyes filling with tears that shred me to pieces. “It hurts, and I’m over it. So if you fucking want me, just say it and I’m yours. I love you, Izaac. I fucking love you, but you’re killing me.”
“Aspen, I—”
“No,” she demands, shoving her hand against my chest, fury brimming in her wet eyes. “Stop. I don’t want to hear any more of your fucking excuses. Just tell me you love me. We both know it. I can feel it every time you touch me, every fucking time you look at me, so just admit it. Put me out of my misery and tell me I’m yours.”
My chest constricts. I thought we’d been through this. I thought she knew where I stood. “Don’t do this, Aspen,” I grit through a clenched jaw, able to see how the rest of the night will go if she keeps pushing, and trust me, it would be even uglier than our last argument.
Anger flashes in those beautiful green eyes and she lifts her chin, fixing me with a defiant stare that could terrify the dead. “You. Love. Me.”
My heart pounds a million miles an hour, maybe even faster than when I was flying toward her in my car and listening to her terror-filled whimpers through my speakers.
Why is she doing this? Why is she trying to make this harder? Does she get off on the pain? Does she like it when I’m left with no fucking choice but to hurt her? I can’t fucking do this.
Holding her stare, I tear my own fucking heart right out of my chest as I blatantly lie. “I don’t.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
I step away from her, needing space between us. “Why the fuck do you keep pushing this, Aspen? I’ve already told you I can never love you. I can’t allow myself to want you like that. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She shakes her head. “For someone who claims he doesn’t want to hurt me, it seems to be the only thing you’re capable of.”
“That’s a low fucking blow, and you know it,” I tell her. “You’re forcing me to do this. You’re practically standing before me and demanding I draw some kind of line between us. Do you really think that’s what I want?”
“No, I know exactly what you want, but you’re too goddamn scared to do anything about it.”
I scoff. “This is getting us nowhere. Just go to bed, Aspen. You’ve had a big night.”
I go to turn on my heel, more than ready to pretend this shit never happened, when she steps around me and shoves the door closed. “You’re not going anywhere,” she says. “I get that you’re not willing to fight for this, but I am, and I’m not going to stop until you finally admit what we’ve both known since the moment you touched me.”
