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“I don’t want anyone to know about us, either.” Her gaze swung away from him, and she gnawed on her lower lip. “And what happened last night, it can’t happen again.”
A cold wave hit his bare skin, his blood itself seeming to cool. Her approach was so impersonal. Insulting. Cruel. No. He’d seen real caring in her eyes last night. She’d confided in him and made him believe he had a real chance here. A chance worthy of handing over his trust. She’d felt something, just as he had. For some reason, she wouldn’t admit to her feelings. But unlike her, he wasn’t about to run.
Fuck. I sound naive. Delusional. Maybe she just doesn’t care.
If that were true, why kiss him back last night?
He stepped in front of her, blocking her ability to walk away.“What’s the real problem here?”
She squeezed past him and stormed from the room, her voice sailing behind her. “We’re not teenagers anymore, Blaine. We’d be crazy to take this further.”
He followed, momentarily stunned as she hurried about the living room collecting stray pillows and blankets and all evidence last night had ever happened. “We share a connection and a past. We’d be crazy not to try.”
She barked out a shot of laughter, one that dented his already bruised heart. “Whatever you’re expecting from me, I’m not ready, and things are way more complicated than either of us deserve. Trust me, I’m doing you a kindness here. You need to go.”
And just like that, her father’s words from years ago echoed in his head. A woman like Emilia didn’t belong with someone as ordinary as him. Maybe the trouble here was that she’d come to believe the same shallow bullshit her father had worked so hard to instill.
Maybe she wasn’t so ashamed of their tender moment last night, as much as having to admit to the outside world that she had any connection with him. She’d just said as much, hadn’t she? Except, he was willing to throw himself completely into being with her, and he didn’t want to be her secret all over again.
White-hot hostility cracked his restraint. Time to face the truth. I don’t know anything about her anymore, do I?
Well if she wanted him gone, he’d go, but not before he said his piece. “I might not be in the same income bracket as the crowd you’re used to, Emilia, but I’ve worked damn hard for the life I have. Last night meant something to me, and you led me to believe you felt the same. We both know things aren’t simple here, and I can deal with complicated, but I’m not someone you use for kicks and then toss aside.”
She stopped clearing bowls from the table still in the living room, her pupils suddenly dark pools. “Blaine, I—”
He shook his head, not letting her continue. “I’m not ashamed of my damn feelings, you didn’t use to be, either. You’ve let your dad get to you.”
Another knock cut through the house, followed by Ally’s voice yelling for Emilia to hurry up. She broke eye contact and stared out the living room door, her jaw hanging open and a moment of silence passing.
He shook his head and marched away to the bedroom, snatching up his shirt from the back of his chair and shaking it out. By the time he got dressed and reached for the front door, a dull ache pulsated through his chest, his emotional pain taking on physical form.
“If this were about money…”
He turned at her voice, her hands raised and gesturing to the old walls around her.
“Do you think I’d be living here? Alone? Driving that busted-up Pinto?”
His fingers tightened around the door handle, yet he failed to pull it open. Hope sprung eternal when it came to this woman, though he wished with every fiber of his being that it didn’t. “If this isn’t about money, tell me what this is about?”
A flash of something took over her face, her cheeks slackening before she turned away. He swore under his breath and followed her back to the living room, refusing to analyze why exactly he couldn’t just let her go.
He let out a sigh at her continued retreat, not wanting to say what he had to say next but needing to, anyway. “This time you have a choice, and I’m asking you not to leave.”
She stopped but kept her back to him.
“I didn’t leave last time, and this is my house.” She spun around, glaring at him, her eyes rimmed in red, her entire face contorted and pinched. The volume of her voice confused him. Maybe he hadn’t known her all that long, but still, he’d never seen her so angry. “I’m asking you to leave, and don’t you dare imply I’m the only one with secrets when you haven’t been all that open or honest, either. You have Sarah, Blaine. Even if you’re willing to pretend you don’t, I’m not.”
An icy ball formed in the pit of his stomach, his muscles suddenly slack. Of all the things she could have said...
“Emilia. That’s not what’s happening here.” He stalked toward her, his voice husky. “I’ll talk to her. She’ll understand.”
“Oh God.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes turning watery again before she gave him her back. “You too?”
She stormed past him, swiping at her face, not sparing him a second glance. “Get out of my house, Blaine.”
