He made the statement baldly. Taking ownership for his carelessness, when the responsibility was just as much hers.
“I’m on the pill. And I’m healthy. Are you?”
He nodded. “Yes, I am,” he said, even though she hadn’t really expected him to say otherwise.
“So…now what?” she said, hoping that despite his distant attitude this morning, he’d say he wanted to be with her again.
“Now we put this behind us,” he said. “It’s not going to happen again. Eric’s my best friend and there’s obviously complicated shit going on with you two. We don’t need our fucking to complicate things even more.”
She winced at his choice of words and glared at him. “So that’s what last night was? Fucking?”
“Wasn’t it?”
“You tell me.”
He went ramrod straight and clenched his silverware so tightly, his knuckles went white. “How can I tell you anything? What doyouthink last night was? Because I don’t usually fuck girls when they think I’m a goddamn dream man, Brianne.”
The expression on his face was filled with hurt, so much so that Brianne was momentarily speechless. What could she say, anyway? Shehadthought she was dreaming, but she also knew it wasn’t a one-time thing. That she’d dreamed of Gabe so often. And that she’d longed for dreams to be reality far too many times.
At her continued silence, his hand cut through the air. “Right. So we made a mistake. End of story. We both had a fucking awesome time, but I went too far and you’re not my girl, and I don’t want you to be. I’d appreciate it if we could just forget about last night and move on. Please.” His expression was completely cold now. He’d retreated behind walls she couldn’t possibly break down, or even climb over.
You’re not my girl, and I don’t want you to be.
I don’t want you to be.
It was that statement she heard louder than anything else.
And it was that statement she responded to.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. We did make a mistake. A terrible mistake. And yes, we can forget about it and move on. I don’t want anything from you either, Gabe. But I—I still care for you. And last night…last night was so good.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she struggled to hold them back.
His eyes flickered and his face softened. He came around the counter to stand before her, placing his big hands on her shoulders. “I care for you, too, Brianne. But let’s not confuse things. A couple of weeks ago you were engaged to Eric, one of the best men I know. You two love each other. We had great sex last night, but that kind of thing passes. It always does. You deserve to be worshipped like the woman you are. You don’t deserve a rough fuck with someone bruising your hips. You deserve flowers and rose petals and jasmine oil. I’m just a roughneck fighter, and you’re a pampered rich girl. I’m not good enough for you.”
“You’re sure of that?” she asked. Yes, he’d bruised her hips, but she’d loved it. Loved being marked by him. Loved knowing that he wanted her so badly, he couldn’t control himself. Yes, she loved flowers, too, but why couldn’t she have both? And why was he trying to put them in boxes? Reduce himself to being a fighter, and her to being a pampered rich girl? Was that really what he thought of her? “Are youreallysure, Gabe?” she asked, hoping it was just guilt and fear driving him to say these things.
He hesitated, but gazed deeply into her eyes. “I’m sure.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. It was amazing how quickly acceptance overrode her disappointment. But obviously she’d grown used to the idea of never being Gabe’s woman. It was just how it was. How it would always be. Sure, the fantasies could overtake her when she slept, but even this morning, when she’d woken up, even after realizing he’d actually been inside her body, she hadn’t experienced a spark of hope for their future together. “What about being my friend? Are you good enough for that?”
“Always, Brianne.”
“Then okay. Friends we’ll stay.” She felt defeated, in every aspect of her life, personal and professional. “But I’ll find someone else to help me with the glamping fundraiser.”
He stared at her for a tense moment, then said, “Don’t. I can still help you.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she sighed.
“Why? We’re still friends, remember?”
“I remember,” she said softly.
“So?”
God, she wanted to scream at him. Didn’t he understand it would be torture for her, being around him, especially now that she knew he was an even better lover than she’d suspected? But no. He thought their time together had been a fluke. He had no way of knowing she’d been fantasizing about him for years.
And he never would.
When she still didn’t say anything, he said, “We’re friends, and I promised to help make sure this event is the best one you’ve ever done. I have a place in mind. It’s beautiful. A lot of my clients go there and they rave about it. I’ll set up a site. Give you an idea what you’re really up for. I think you’ll have fun. It’s the least I can do.”