Page 92 of One Last Rainy Day
“Well, I do!”
“You’re not a dog,” I offer.
“Thanks, I guess that’s a step up fromconvenient whore!”
She rattles with fury where she stands, and it’s all I can do to keep from pushing her back down on her side ofmybed, where she belongs.
Who the fuck am I right now?
She glares at me, her hostility visceral. “If I ever gave you the impression that I’mfucking desperate, you got the wrong one, Dominic. Because, trust me, you are no woman’s first choice.” She surprises herself with her venom, and I can practically see the hand she denies cupping over her mouth in horror as her eyes flit with regret. As the pain of that statement singes me, I feel sorry for the bastard that will deserve and eventually claim her for good. She’s going to give him hell. In the next second, I fucking hate him because it’s not me, and maybe I’ll never be worthy of being in the running with the way I’ve deceived her. “You didn’t go to him. Why?”
“To Sean?” She shakes her head. “Because this is our fucking rela—” she stops herself from saying the word she thinks scares me. That’s not the word that scares me. Not anymore.
It’s another word, a decision-making word that worries me.
“Let me clarify this for you,” she asserts furiously. “I’mnot desperate, but I’m becoming jaded because I’m the girl who really wants to fucking be with you, and you’re the busy criminal that’s fucking me because I’m convenient.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“Maybe you didn’t, but because it’s so easy for you to demean me that way, I don’t want you anymore.”
It’s another knife to the chest, and fuck me, I deserve it. When she steps toward the door, I block her. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “That’s not who I am.”
She snaps her head up, her eyes searching. “I thought I knew that, but you told me differently.” There’s truth to that, a whole wealth of shit she’s clueless to, and I can’t even fault her for that because we’re too good at what we do. She’s already so tangled in our web that I don’t know if she can get out. But all I want to do is sink my fangs in deeper, keep her tangled—with me.
“What, Dom...what is it that’s holding you back? I mean, if it’s Sean, I understand...I guess—”
I jerk my chin. “It’s not Sean.”
“Then what?”
That decision-making word.
Brother.
And it’s too fucking late because I want her on her side of my bed no matter the weather.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Goddammit.
“I won’t ever mistreat you like that again.”
“That was too easy for you.” Her voice rattles with hurt.
I jerk my chin. “No. It fucking wasn’t.”
Her eyes mist, but she lifts her chin defiantly. She’s notgoing to give me any tears. Good. I don’t deserve them. The need to bridge this, to make her believe me, to touch her and ease the roiling in my gut, intensifies as my palms start to sweat. She couldn’t have meant it. With the way I feel—if she’s feeling it too—it hurts too fucking much. Why can’t I say it?
Why can’t I just admit that?
Because I can’t tell her shit without backing it up, and I’m already too far into a corner that won’t allow it.
“Tell me what to say.”
She jerks her chin. “No.”
