Page 20 of Reckless
“Say that again,” she said.
“You’re right.I should not have said it without asking you first.”
“You literally just admitted that and somehow made it sound like a strategy.”
“It’s not a strategy.It’s an apology.”
“Those sound very similar coming from you.”
The space between us felt too small.Or maybe not small enough.
“And because,” I went on, quieter now, “I didn’t want another woman sitting in a space I was already noticing you in.”
Silence.My own words settled around us, more revealing than I would’ve preferred.
Kelly inhaled, slowly.
When she spoke, her voice had changed.Not softer.More charged because of how careful it was.
“You are not allowed,” she said, “to say things like that to me after publicly detonating my evening.”
I almost smiled.“Noted.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Her throat moved when she swallowed.My eyes tracked it before I stopped them.
She noticed.
Everything with Kelly sharpened.Even now, furious and humiliated and half a second from telling me away, there was something alive in her that reacted to heat with more heat and that interested me more than was convenient.
“You need to fix this,” she said.
“How?”
“That is not my problem.”
“It became your problem when you didn’t deny it.”
Her eyes flashed.“I didn’t deny it because denying it in front of your family would have been worse for me than playing along.You know that.”
“Yes.”
“Then stop acting like I had a choice.”
“You did have a choice.You chose dignity.”
“Don’t compliment me while I’m considering violence.”
The sane response.The one I should have expected.Instead of agreeing like a reasonable man, I heard myself ask, “Do I?”
Her eyes widened.“Excuse me?”
I stepped closer, so she had to tip her chin to hold eye contact.
“If I fix it tonight,” I said, “you become the woman I falsely claimed in front of my family.”
