Page 76 of Bad Boy Crush
“I’m…processing.” She slapped the suitcase shut and stashed it in the closet. Wind pressed against her house, audibly creaking the walls. “Can we do this later?”
“No. We spent over nine and a half hours in a car together without a word about it. I have no idea what you’re thinking, and it’s eating me alive. Did I fuck everything up? Tell me.”
Tongue on the inside of her cheek, she watched him in silence for a few beats. “How do you know?”
“How do I know…that I love you?”
Her eyes shut like she couldn’t bear hearing it. “Yeah. How do you know?”
“I’m not the serial dater you’ve accused me of being.”
“Various women I’ve seen you with in Evergreen Cove tell a different story.”
“I’ve had serious relationships before,” he said, instead of defending himself for dating while she was married. “Andrea was the almost-fiancée I told you about. Then there was Sheryl. We dated nearly a year. Mona was in my life on and off for almost two years. My twenties were about looking for forever and failing to find it.” He took a breath. “Then I met you. And it was like the entire world stopped.”
“Ant—” It was a plea he ignored. Like his friend Donny famously said, the only way out was straight through. There was no hiding from what was right in front of them. Ant wouldn’t let her.
“You’re not sure about us, but I am. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’ve never felt half of what I feel for you for the women who came before you. Liam did a number on you, and then we had a falling out, but this is real for me, Lourdes. This is it.”
His heart climbed into his throat and prevented him from saying any more. Now she had more than a clumsy, post-coital “I love you” to think about. Now she knew the truth. He was stone sober, tired as hell from the drive, and completely in love with her.
She folded her arms over her chest, her eyes welling with unshed tears. Her lashes fluttered. “It’s too soon for you to know you love me.”
“It’s not too soon.”
“It’s been, what? A handful of weeks?”
“It’s been five fucking years.” He wouldn’t allow her to question what he damn well knew was real.
“Well, it hasn’t been five years for me. I was married. I couldn’t pine for anyone.”
“I fucking know that.” He plowed his hand into his hair, frustrated. How could he explain this in a way she would understand? “Look, I wasn’t in love with you five years ago. I couldn’t be. I wasn’t a masochist. I thought you and Liam would stay married forever.”
“You were drunk at our wedding. You were inconsolable. At the time I passed it off as something else, but you were miserable because I was married. Right?”
Not his finest hour. “I’m not proud of that, but it didn’t last. I swear. After that night, I promised myself I’d let you be happy. While being your friend.”
“You brought so much more into this than I did, Ant. Years of feelings you haven’t dealt with.”
“Oh, cut the shit. You know me. As well as I know you. I wasn’t at home pining and praying for you to leave Liam. Hell, I let him talk me into keeping my trap shut so that you two could salvage your marriage!” Ant consulted the ceiling for help, drawing a deep breath and trying to calm down. They were off track, and Liam wasn’t the point of this discussion. “What I’m trying to say is we’ve had years together. You know me.”
“Not this side of you.” She looked him up and down. “Not the way you were in bed or the way you make me feel like I’m the only woman in the world. You held back, and I understand why, but this is new between us. I’ve never met anyone who made me feel the way I feel when I’m with you. It’s overwhelming.” She swiped her tears from her cheeks. “It is too much to process. You can’t spring this on me and expect me to react in kind.”
“Why the fuck not? You owe me at least a reaction.”
Her mouth dropped open, but he kept digging the hole he’d inadvertently started. “How the hell do you think I felt when you cut me out of your life like I never fucking mattered? You wanted this. You told me so. You wanted to kiss me and fuck me and wanted me to protect you from the goddamn storm.” He gestured to the angry storm outside, feeling a similar way himself. “Last night you were hellbent on proving to me that I mattered to you. Don’t pretend for a second that was just a blowjob, or a weekend fuck.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Which is it? Do you want me or don’t you?”
Thunder cracked overhead.
“I don’t know!” she shouted.
His head jerked like she’d slapped him. He refused to stand there and let her slice him into pieces. He cared about her, but he cared about himself too. She’d turned on him once, back when he was less invested in her than he was now. Part of him warned that he should have known. That he should have seen this coming. There was no way to go back in time and un-have this conversation, but he could preserve what was left of his pride.
Maybe it was best to leave and let her sort out her feelings alone. He couldn’t bear to stand there another minute trying to convince her to love him. He mattered more than that—she’d said so herself.