Page 29 of Fire

“I don’t know what look you’re talking about.”

That was a blatant lie, but he wouldn’t call her out on it. “I hurt you.”

She remained silent, not denying it.

“We need to talk. Come sit down.” He tried one more time.

Reluctantly, she moved around the coffee table and tucked herself into the corner of the couch. “I’m only agreeing because I know I won’t get rid of you until you say your piece, and I’m tired and want to get back to bed.”

He supposed he deserved that, too, but he would gladly take the licks if it meant she would talk with him.

Blake took a seat on the cushion beside her, his thigh landing an inch from her toes as she sat with her legs tucked to her chest, creating a barrier between them. “First, let me clear up tonight.”

He saw her body stiffen and hated that she’d gotten the wrong idea. He’d been stewing for hours while she wouldn’t pick up her damn phone, knowing she thought the worst and having no way to dissuade her assumption.

“The blonde you saw me with is the wife of the guy you ran into. His name is Scott, and he’s a friend of mine. He’d been outside taking a phone call.”

Her eyes grew calculating, no doubt trying to gauge if he was telling the truth.

“I know we haven’t known each other long, but in that time, I’ve never lied to you. I never lie—makes life easier that way—no matter how much the truth can sometimes hurt.”

He’d grown up surrounded by liars, making it a trait he particularly loathed.

He saw she still struggled so he clarified. “I haven’t been with any woman since I first laid eyes on you.”

Her stiff posture relaxed, and she sagged onto the arm of the couch. “I believe you.” Sighing, she continued, “Though that doesn’t change anything. You still walked away and haven’t contacted me all week.”

Wanting to touch her, he raised a hand, but the stiffening of her body after she’d just relaxed had him dropping it to the back of the couch. “I know.”

“I called you,” she accused—theyou never called me back,implied in her tone.

“I know.”

“You know,” she mimicked angrily, “but you still expected me to answer you after a week of silence? How is that fair?”

“It’s not,” he admitted.

“Why didn’t you call me back?” Her hurt was evident in her small voice and tore at his heart.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. “My head was in a fucked-up place. The day we fought, the look you gave me, you were afraid of me. I never want that.”

Her head was shaking before he even finished speaking. “I was confused, not scared. I didn’t understand where your anger had come from. And before I had time to process or even respond, you were walking out the door.”

He felt his anger resurfacing at what was clearly a lie. “Don’t tell me you weren’t scared. You backed away from me.”

“You had just told me you were angry because I had my hand on some other guy.My hand. I stepped back out of disbelief, not because I was afraid you would hurt me. You have to realize how crazy that sounded.”

If that were true, he needed to explain. “Jealousy is an emotion I’ve never experienced before. It took me by surprise.”

“There was nothing to be jealous of.”

“He made it pretty clear he wanted you.”

“But I made it clear I wasn’t interested,” she countered.

He ducked his head, his hand gripping the back of his neck. “Rationally, I know that now, but at the time, I was far from rational.”

She touched his hand—the one draped along the back of the couch.

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