Page 105 of Rosabel and the Billionaire Beast

“For what I said about love.”

Setting the water bottle down, he retrieved the small towel next to it and wiped his face. “No, you don’t. You’re free to tell me things, even if I don’t want to hear them.”

That was unexpected. Why was he acting gruff and distant again?

I stepped closer as if treading on broken glass, waiting for the openness we’d shared to return. It didn’t.

He turned his back to me, and thanks to the mirror on the back wall, I could see his scowl.

I had to get the other Duncan back. The kind one, the open one. The one who’d been my friend today. The one who did sweet things for me like stocking his house with romance novels.

“Who’s Wesley?” I asked. “How do you know him?”

Duncan stalked to where his shirt rested on a chair in the corner. He slipped it over his head, pulling it to cover his abs. Which was a shame, since they were so pretty.

“Wesley and I went to the same fraternity for about a day.”

“Aday? I thought you were friends.”

He grunted. “Acquaintances is more like it.”

Wesley hadn’t acted that way. He’d been excited to see Duncan today. He’d acted like they’d known each other much longer.

“I don’t get it,” I said.

He faced me, lifting his arm across his torso for a stretch. “That’s all I’m going to say about it.”

“Stop,” I said, my frustration mounting.

Duncan glowered at me. “Stop what?”

“Don’t do this. Don’t revert back to your old self, not after the day we’ve shared. Tell me what’s going on. You owe me that much. What’s going on? Does this have to do with Eudora or Wesley? Why are you pulling away from me again?”

“The less you know, the better.”

“What does that even mean? It has something to do with me, doesn’t it? Doesn’t it?" I demanded when he didn't answer right away.

“What is it? Please. I know you don't want me here?—”

A scoff escaped. He spoke over his shoulder as he stretched his other arm. “You know nothing."

“Exactly! Why do you push me away? We’re in this tug of war where you're holding all the strings. Why do I feel like you're a decent person one minute and a viper the next? Why do you let me in close and then push me away? Why?—"

Duncan’s hands lowered to his sides. “I can't let you close."

“What?"

He grimaced and slammed a fist into his punching bag, though it wasn’t as hard as his usual hits. This was just for something to do.

I moved closer and caught the bag mid-sway. "What's it going to hurt Duncan? What's really going to happen that's so bad? That I might like you?"

“I don't want you getting hurt.” He pointed toward the door behind me, as though an enemy would enter any minute.

“By whom?Youhurt me every day. With your coldness and your whiplash. Especially more so now since I see this other side of you, this caring side that you've kept so secret. You're hiding something. Please tell me what it is. Trust me enough to tell me. Let me in. Don't push me away.”

His eyes turned glossy, as clear as pools of water, and so bare I could see myself in them. His lips curled over his teeth and a growl escaped.

“You won’t let this go, will you?” he said.

---