Page 42 of Bull Rush

“No. I am,” she answers softly.

Which means she’s been cooking him meals out of it. Serving him my mother’s recipes at her table. I see red all over again, even if it’s irrational.

“I want the cookbook when we’re done here. It should be in the family.” I move toward the hallway to take my shower.

“Ramsey!” she calls after me, and I pause, looking back over my shoulder. “Please eat dinner.” She gives me doe eyes. The kind that always used to work on me whenever we fought, and my heart twists just that little bit. Enough that my arm twists with it, and I agree.

“Fine. Let me get a quick shower.” I need space for a few moments, time to wash the day off and remind myself that if I want to win her over, I’m going to have to swallow my pride more than once. This whole arrangement is going to drive me to the brink of what’s left of my sanity.

I finishtwo helpings of the casserole because it tastes that fucking good, and the nostalgia bleeds into my heart with each bite. She serves me my favorite beer with it, like she remembers everything and knows exactly how to weaponize it all against me. It’s a war I started; I should have been prepared for her to fight it. But she’s winning battle after battle, even when I think I’m on offense.

When she sees my empty plate, she stands abruptly, wiping the corner of her mouth and setting her napkin aside as she eyes it.

“Do you want more?”

“No. I’m good.” I set the fork and knife on the edge of theplate. “It was good though.” I’m trying to offer some semblance of a peace offering to her.

“Do you want some of the apple pie cookies? Kit helped me make them so they shouldn’t be too awful.” She offers up a smile, and that has me wondering what trap she’s laying for me now. I lose my ability to keep up the pretense even as she continues. “I have vanilla ice cream too if you want that or whipped—"

“What’s all this about?” I ask, interrupting her, and her brow furrows in response. She blinks a few times and then shrugs, looking down at the table.

“I’m sorry. For before. All the tormenting… and Curtis. I think I took things too far with you, and I didn’t mean to hurt you, if that’s what I did.” She hedges her apology, and I want to deny it. I want to tell her my ego is bulletproof, and she didn’t touch my feelings. But it’d be a lie. Hearing her talk that way to him had felt like being stabbed after the progress I thought we were making.

“You could have just said that this morning.”

“I wanted to make up for it somehow. This was the best I could come up with.”

“Why?”

“I told you… I felt bad after last night. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”

“That’s what we do best, isn’t it? Push each other’s buttons.” I stand and grab my plate, headed for the kitchen sink.

I want air. Time away from her. Because sitting here eating dinner together. Coming home to her after a long day. It was the kind of thing I dreamed of when I was younger, and I feel like a fucking fool for tormenting myself with it now when I know I can’t have it. She might want me in her bed, but shewants him in this seat—and that’s going to eat at my heart until it fucking withers.

“Ramsey, please…” She reaches out, and her hand slips around my wrist, dropping when I don’t stop. “Ramsey!” she pleads as she hops up from her seat and follows me into the kitchen.

I whirl around on her and study her as she stops short of me.

“What do you want?” I snap, harsher than I even intend.

“I want to…” Her eyes lift to the ceiling and then back down to her hands, where her thumb rubs over the surface of one of her dark red nails. “Live up to the bargain we made. You said you’d give me a couple of weeks, and you did. So I want to make good on it. If you really want to sleep in my—our—bed tonight. You can.”

“I think I sleep better without having to listen to your guy moan like a stuck pig.”

Her lips quirk up in a smile for half a moment before she smothers it and tries to look remorseful.

“I won’t do that again.”

“And you know what I want doesn’t involve sleep,” I press, because if I can’t have what I want, I’ll take what I can get.

She nods, and she looks at the floor. “I know.”

“What’s the catch? How are you tricking me tonight?” I slip my hand under her chin, and her eyes lift to meet mine.

“No catch. No trick,” she insists.

I study her, her pale-blue eyes taking me in at the same time. They drift down to my lips, and I can tell she’s thinking about last night. I lean in, closing the distance between us to kiss her, imagining what it’s going to be like to finally feel her warm, plush lips against mine again. I’m drunk on it before I even touch her. And just as I’m about to finally have it—have her—again, she takes a step back and puts a canyon’s worth of space in between us.

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