Page 5 of Tell Me Something True

But he’d given her everything he had once before. Everything he was.

There was nothing left.

“I realize that how we left things—”

“We didn’t leave anything,” he interrupted smoothly. “You left.”

Her gaze dropped, but it was only a moment before she met his eyes again, chin set in determination.

“I realize,” she said again, “that the way things ended between us wasn’t ideal. Just as I realize my leaving that way wasn’t my finest hour. But it’s been ten years—”

“I know how long it’s been.”

“Long enough,” she added, “for us both to have gotten past it.”

“That would be true, except for one problem.”

“And what’s that?”

“I don’t want to get past it.”

She lifted her hands in a helpless gesture when there was nothing helpless about her. “So you’re going to hate me forever?”

“I don’t hate you.” He’d wanted to. Had tried. But that saying about there being a thin line between love and hate hit a little too close to home when it came to her. “I feel nothing for you.”

She scooted to the edge of her stool so she could mimic the pose he’d taken with her earlier—one arm on the bar, one hand on his stool, next to his ass.

Except she didn’t simply invade his space. She took it over. Her breasts brushed against his chest as she angled toward him. Lifting her head, her hair caught on the stubble covering his jaw, pulling a few strands free of their bonds, releasing the scent of her shampoo as she spoke close to his ear.

“Nothing, huh?” she asked, her breath soft and warm on his skin.

He leaned back, just a little.

Not enough for her to suspect being this close to her was shredding his willpower.

Not nearly enough for his own peace of mind.

“Nothing,” he managed again. Quite the feat when his mouth was bone dry and most of his working brain cells had shut down.

Probably due to lack of blood supply. It was all heading south.

She made a humming sound that reverberated along his skin. He didn’t move. Barely breathed. The animal inside of him was back, roaring to be let loose.

He locked that son-of-a-bitch down tight.

But it wasn’t enough because her gaze flicked to his lap for one long, lingering, knowing moment.

Goddamn it all to hell.

“You sure about that?” she asked softly.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I remember everything. Including how good of a fuck you were.”

The color leached from her face, and she slowly eased back, watching him warily. As if that wild animal inside of him had escaped and now had her cornered, snarling and snapping and rabid.

He should apologize.

But he wouldn’t.

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