Page 40 of Irish Fury
“And then Eze called. I think my heart only stopped racing a moment ago.”
Mags watched all the emotions cross Jonathan’s handsome face and knew he wasn’t lying. Her brain knew that, anyway, her heart…not so much.
“At least my giant tote that everyone gives me such a hard time about saved me from the brunt of it.” She was trying to lighten the mood, but Jonathan’s lips didn’t even twitch.
No small talk then. “Listen, Jon, I know you wanted to speak to me, but I have to tell you that I’m content with our friendshipand my new business. My parents will be home next week, Blair, Gray, and Bébhinn are happy, Mirren’s new artist is making a splash in the art world, and I plan on asking Eze for a small loan for materials since I’m not working any of my extra jobs besides cleaning the gallery.” Her hands rose with her shoulders in an “I don’t know what you need from me” gesture.
His jaw clenched, probably at hearing how her life was turning around and she wasn’t in need of a savior, namely him. She’d finally been released from the repercussions of her unrequited love. He was so used to the hearts in her eyes when she looked at him that now that they were gone—though she admitted it was still a struggle to hide them—he couldn’t fathom the new dynamic, that they were friends.
“If your pride has taken a hit because I no longer care to worship at your shrine, that isn’t my problem.”
“You have me all figured out, huh? You think I’m here for my ego? You think I want to regress to the days when I date women that I care nothing for. Don’t get me wrong, Mags, I want you to look at me the way you used to because I finally realized that I’ve always looked right back at you with the same feelings.
“I don’t deserve it, but I’m begging you for another chance. Let me prove to you that you’re it for me.”
Mags felt her heart implode, then explode. He was saying everything she’d wanted to hear since she was a teenager. The problem was, he’d burned her. He’d been burning her since their first—and only—kiss.
Jonathan was sincere, or he was as sincere as he knew how to be. It was only that he had no clue how badly he’d hurt her, how little trust she had where he was concerned.
She wanted to say yes badly. “No. No, Jonathan.” At his crushed look, she added, “It was never required that you feel about me how I felt about you. Never.”
She took one of his hands and pressed it between her own. “You have always had a right to your feelings. As I’ve matured, I've had to understand that I had been unfair in my expectations.
“I think what hurt me most wasn’t seeing one woman after another on your arm. It was that my pain and hurt could have ended almost three years ago had you only cared enough about our friendship to say,Hey, Mags, sorry I kissed you. It didn’t mean anything, and I hate that it hurt you when I went from you to another girl within minutes.”
“It did mean something, damnit,” he growled, placing his free hand over hers, making their hands sandwiched together. “I’ve been running from how much it meant ever since.”
“And you had this epiphany around the time I finally walked away and found someone else?” She should feel guilty for using her friendship with Eze to poke at Jonathan.
“I admit that I felt you pulling back. It made me panic. I let you see me with even more women in the hopes that you would react the way you always had, with censure and disdain. To me, it meant you still cared.
“I can’t believe that a man in my position, with the family that raised me, could be so blind and foolish, so callous and immature.
“You know how close Mom and her sisters are, how close Dad and Uncle Bran are, and how badly it wrecked us all to lose Grandpa. I don’t think Aunt Rowan will ever fully recover from the loss. When you witness firsthand what it looks like for a person to lose their other half, it’s fucking terrifying.
“You aren’t some self-absorbed woman where social media likes hit like a drug high. You are real and loyal, caring and genuine. Your embroidery makes people happy. Your smile is the first thing I look for when I come into a room.
“When you’re stressed, I am. When you’re down, I am. When you used to call me out on my shit, it made me feel seen.”
Mags’ head was spinning. He thought all these things about her…then why? Why choose everyone but her?
Her confusion must show. “I have no excuse except for idiocy. I kept telling myself that I was too young for commitment, that it was way more fun to play the field, that society expected me to be a bit of a playboy.
“Had I been honest with myself, I would have admitted what I’ve always known. You are it for me.”
“And you aren’t bothered that I’m living with Eze?” That was a good test of his resolve.
“I’m bothered, but I also know that if you two had anything between you that he wouldn’t have allowed this,” he motioned between the two of them, “and you wouldn’t have given me the time of day. I think you are friends only.”
“He doesn’t kiss me like a friend.” Low blow, but then she’d been on the receiving end of many low hits from Jonathan.
She watched Jonathan close his eyes as if he were in pain. She knew how that felt. “That wasn’t nice, I’m sorry.”
“I deserve it. If you told me you’d fallen in love with Eze, I would hear you, but I would never stop fighting for you.”
Mags’ phone dinged. It was a text from Eze.
Eze: I sent Jol and Abeo to a spa for lunch and massages. Nasir and I have left as well. I would have told you, but I didn’t want to interrupt.
