Page 84 of A Little Complicated

“But he isn’tyou,” I finish.

Maverick lifts the bottle again, taking a long pull and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Turning to me, he gives me his full attention. “Trust me, Ophelia. You don’t want me.”

“Maybe it’s time you stop listening to whatever baseless insecurities you have and trust what I want for once.”

“I know what you want.”

Shifting my book in my hands, I fold my arms. “And what do I want?”

“You want a hockey career. And a successful husband who worships you. You want kids and a dog and a house close to your parents and your little sister, no matter how much you two like to fight.” His mouth lifts, but it isn’t happy. It’s sad. So freaking sad, I can feel it in the pit of my stomach as he licks the moisture from his bottom lip. “You want things I can’t give you, Lia. So, why drag this out when it’ll only end with you in shambles?”

“You’re being unfair,” I argue.

“Just saying it like it is.”

“Do you have any idea how much this is killing me? How muchyou’rekilling me?” I yank the bottle from his hand and keep it out of his reach, demanding his full attention. “By being hot and cold and messing with my head until I’m convinced I’m going fucking crazy? Or am I the only one who remembers your tequila dick rearing to go not so long ago? Huh? So what? I’m good for a solid fuck, but an actual relationship is out of the question for you?”

“Never said I wasn’t a fuck-up.”

“Touche,” I snap. “You’re also selfish.”

“Check.”

“And stubborn.”

“Check.”

“And with a heart so fucking rotten you can’t even let yourself be happy.”

Resting his hip against the railing, his eyes close for the briefest of seconds. He nods. “Check again, Opie.”

“You don’t get to play it both ways,” I seethe. “You don’t get to be hot and cold. You don’t get to break my heart an hour before you were supposed to take me to prom, then be pissed at me when your brother took me instead. You don’t get to tell me I should stay with your brother when I see the hurt in your eyes whenever you see us together. It isn’t fair.”

“Don’t talk to me about what is or isn’t fair, Ophelia. He might be the better choice, but you can’t hold it against me for hating it when I see you with him.”

“You ended things withme.” I jab at my own chest while fighting back tears of frustration. Because it hurts. It hurts so much. To see everything we could be, everything I want, if we could only…take it. “You don’t get to be jealous,” I add. “You don’t get to play the victim or pretend I’m the one who broke your black heart.”

“You’re right.” He nods, digging the dagger a little deeper as he cuts the distance between us until his chest brushes against mine. “Now run along back to my brother’s bed where you belong.”

“His bed,” I seethe. “Because it’s where I belong?”

“It’s not like you haven’t already been there. Tell me, how long did you wait after we broke up until you fucked him?”

“I thought we never dated,” I argue.

He lets out a low, humorless laugh and pinches the bridge of his nose but doesn’t answer me.

“And I haven’t fucked him,” I add.

He scoffs. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I haven’t,” I repeat.

“You sleep in his bed,” he reminds me as if he has all the answers, and it only feeds my need to knock the arrogant asshole down a peg or two.

Lifting my head, my upper lip curling, I jab at his chest, driving my point home. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Yes, I sleep in his bed. I like being held, and he likes holding me. But actually fucking him?” A bitter laugh scrapes up my throat. “Call me a prude or a lovesick puppy, but I’ve been holding back.”

He leans down, his nose an inch from mine and his eyes gleaming with arrogance as if he doesn’t believe me, even now.

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