Page 38 of I Should Hate You-but I Don't

There was no one she could talk to about her feelings toward him. Every time she'd tried to tell him, he shut her down or made an excuse to walk away.

Yet, he had no trouble sneaking over in the middle of the night for sex.

She lifted her chin. If he couldn't vocalize what was going on between them—what had gone on between them for years now, then she was done.

She stepped inside and shut the door before he could follow her. Then, for good measure, she turned the deadbolt.

Because it killed her to shut him out, she waited, giving him a second chance to knock. She listened for any indication that he would break down the door and declare his love for her.

Then, she silently begged him to come to her.

She had no tears to cry. Only a deep sadness contaminated her life.

Eventually, she climbed the stairs and went into the bedroom. She tossed the blanket on the floor and would deal with it in the morning before work.

She flipped the light switch. A hand covered her mouth, muffling her scream.

"Sh." Zane held her against his body. "You forgot to lock the back door."

She fought against his hold, more irritated at him for scaring her to death than sneaking into the house. Pulling his hand away from her mouth, she said, "Great, you can use the same door to leave."

It was idiotic of her to kick him out of his own house when she wanted to keep him with her. But she'd run out of patience.

"Don't hate me," he said against her ear.

She trembled at the way his warm breath covered the side of her neck. "I don'thateyou. I'm mad."

He turned her around and pinned her against the wall, bracing his hands on each side of her, imprisoning her. "You should hate me."

"I don't—" She pushed his chest, trying to see his face better. "What are you talking about?"

"I shouldn't be here." He kissed her neck. "Tell me to go."

"I don't want you to leave." She grabbed his leather vest. "I don't know what's going on with you. You come over here and want me, but away from the house, you act like—"

"I can't stay away." He growled.

His anguish carved his face, almost making his eyes disappear. The lines deepened at his temples.

"Nobody's telling you to go." She shook him. "I want you here with me—"

He captured her mouth, stealing her chance to tell him how she felt. He slid his hands down the wall until they were around her neck, holding her there.

Dragging his lips off her, he placed his forehead on her forehead, breathing raggedly. His heartbeat raced against her.

"I can't," he whispered. "No matter how much I want to."

He'd come to her after drinking. There was no way he'd say those things if he were sober.

She had no idea what he was even saying. Why couldn't he love her?

Zane inhaled deeply and pushed away from her. A chill swept over her at the absence of his body heat.

He walked away. No explanation, no excuse, no nothing.

She stepped forward to follow him but stopped. It wasn't up to her to show him how to love her.

She didn't need him to confess how much he loved her. That was something she'd always known. A man doesn't help an eleven-year-old child, stick around for years to make sure she was taken care of and stayed safe, and then steal her away from foster care at the drop of a tear to hide her away in Gem Haven, chancing his freedom to make sure she remained happy without love being involved.

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