Page 68 of Volatile

“No.” She jerked her hand away, once again surprising the shit out of him. So much for thinking it was going well. “You tell me your pretty words, but they’re just wrapping for what’s really underneath. You want me lured into an ugly world, one you seem to think is perfectly fine for my sister to be in.”

She’d snapped, and he didn’t know what the fuck had triggered it now. She was the most infuriating women he’d ever known. He was trying, trying so fucking hard, but he was just about to his limit.

“I’m not luring you into anything. What I say now is not going to change from what I do later.”

“It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t fit into this type of arrangement. You’ve said it yourself—I am nothing like Julia, and I’ll never be. You might have some fun with me for a while, but I’ll never be the kind of woman who’ll get your heart like she did.”

“Why are we talking about Julia again? This has nothing to do with her.”

“Nothing and everything. Right, Jonathan?”

“What the hell—”

“Are you still in love with her? No, don’t answer that. You don’t need to. You still have her fucking portrait in your house!” Her hand shook on the door handle. “You know, I thought I wanted more excitement in my life, but maybe it was a mistake breaking it off with Wes.”

He clenched his jaw. “Are you threatening me?”

“It may have been dull with him, but at least he gave me flowers.”

“This is about flowers?”

She was going to make him fucking insane. Better than being in love. His head was about to explode.

“No, this is not about flowers. It’s about normal.”

He’d done it. Reached his limit. DONE. She was mercurial. A fucking shot of poison to the heart. If she was going to take everything he’d told her so far, everything he’d shown her, everything he’d made her feel and shit all over it, she could have her fucking normal world without him in it.

“Then, by all means, be my guest, Ivy. Go back to Wes and have all the nice, safe fucks you want. Because I don’t do flowers and you won’t be finding what you need with me.”

Her mouth opened, but she quickly shut it. The next moment she was out the door and racing to her car. He didn’t run out after her, just made sure she got inside and left before he did.

He pulled out his phone to check the time and a text popped up from Jacque. She must have sent it while he was in the bar, helping a woman who’d turned around and ripped out his throat.

Lizbeth insists on waiting for you. Can I go ahead and tell her you’re not coming?

Shit. He’d forgotten all about Jacque’s party. The way he’d felt at one time with Ivy by his side? Nothing could have dragged him there. But with her gone? Nothing could stop him.

No, keep her waiting. I’ll be there.

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