Page 36 of Imagine Me and You

He put his hand on the doorknob and anger shot through her, rescuing her from dissolving into tears. “You’re throwing away fourteen years of friendship because of sex?” she spat. “Then maybe what we had didn’t mean as much as I thought it did.”

“No, Sam. You’re throwing away love because of fear.” He opened the door, a shaft of cold air bursting through the comfortable warmth of the house, and then he slammed the door behind him. And he was gone.

Really gone.

Her legs wobbled, gave out beneath her, and she went to her knees, to the floor, too numb to cry. She heard his truck motor. Heard the vehicle roar through the snow and out of the driveway.

Poppy got up and wandered, not to where Samantha was on the floor, but to the door, whining, the high-pitched sound hitting Sam right in her heart, pain splintering outward.

She moved over to where Poppy sat, wrapping her arms around the big dog, and she buried her face in her fur. And then she cried like she’d lost her best friend.

Because she had.

Jace hated motel rooms. They weren’t his, and he hated that feeling. But it seemed to fit right now because his body didn’t feel like it was his either.

It was numb. All of him was. And for now, he was thankful for that fact. Because like any good physical injury, once the shock wore off it was going to smart like a son of a bitch.

He wasn’t looking forward to that.

Fortunately, he could prolong the moment by downing some whiskey. And then, in the morning, maybe, just maybe his head would hurt more than his heart.

He popped the top on the bottle and debated pouring a glass, then decided against it. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a long drink.

Class act. But who the hell cared? No one. Apparently, no one cared.

Not Sam.

He replayed the scene in his mind. Every ugly word that had flown between them. He’d done the right thing by leaving. He had. Because if he had stayed, he would have to watch her finally find the guy who melted her reserve. The man who would make her want to take a chance on things she clearly didn’t want to take a chance on with him.

“You can’t have me only on your terms.”

“So, I can only have you on yours?”

Was that what he was doing? His way or the highway?

No. She wanted him to be her damn crutch through life, and he deserved more than that.

You love her, but you’re taking yourself out of her life completely as punishment for not feeling the same way? For being afraid? Asshole.

So what? He took another drink. He deserved more. He deserved more than a mess of a house and a mother who loved garbage more than she loved people. He deserved more than a friend who loved safety more than she loved him.

And maybe she deserved more than a love with conditions.

He took another drink and stared out the window at the snow. He had a feeling his heart and his pride were going to do battle tonight.

And he had no idea who was going to win.

Samantha slept on the floor by the fire with Poppy. Well, she didn’t really sleep. She tossed and turned, her entire body aching.

She hadn’t known heartbreak was physical. Hadn’t known she would really feel like a part of herself had shattered. She’d imagined she’d felt heartbreak before, but she’d been wrong.

Nothing was like this. Nothing.

Being in Jace’s house without him was a special kind of hell. She needed to find another place to stay, but she didn’t want to. Because it smelled like him here.

She wanted to crawl into his bed and inhale his scent, wrap herself in it.

But she denied herself. Because she didn’t deserve it.

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