Page 86 of Dirty Play

“You called me a mosquito.” My voice cracks. “You told me I didn’t belong here. You made it impossible for me, and I still.” I suck in a breath, my nails biting into my palms. “I gave you everything.”

“And you have no idea how much it means to me. Please, let me make this right.” His eyes flicker, the desperation in them seeming real.

“No.” I shake my head, my chest heaving. “I believed you,” I whisper, and it feels like something is shattering inside me as I say it out loud. “Yesterday, when you said all those things, I believed you.”

His lips part like he wants to say something, but I don’t let him.

“I hated myself for thinking you were more than just an asshole. I beat myself up for it. I told myself I was being stupid, that I was being too quick to judge. I thought there was a good man behind all of it, an honest one.” I swallow the lump in my throat, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I thought I misjudged you, and I was right—I did misjudge you. Because you’re so much fucking worse.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, looking like he just took a punch to the gut. Like every word is a bullet lodging into his chest.

Good. Because I’m bleeding out in front of him.

I should have kept walking, ignored him, let the doors close, and never looked back. But I didn’t, and now I’m standing here, face to face with him, while every single piece of me is crumbling to dust.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is rough, raw. Like he's barely holding himself together.

“What do you want me to say, Rowan?” I swallow hard, my throat burning.

“That you’ll listen. That you’ll hear me out.” His hands flex at his sides like he’s stopping himself from reaching for me. Like he knows he doesn’t deserve to touch me.

“Listen to what? More bullshit and playboy lies? More of you telling me how I don’t belong here?” My voice breaks on that last part, and I hate that he hears it.

“I never meant that when I said it.” His jaw tightens.

“Oh, really?” I snap, my anger flaring, barely covering the way my chest feels like it’s about to cave in. “Because you said it enough times for it to feel pretty damn real.”

“I was being a dick on purpose. I wanted to get under your skin. I wanted you to feel like you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. I was trying to make you leave because I wasn’t ready for what you wanted of me. I couldn’t do those interviews. I couldn’t talk about my parents. But you never gave up, and yesterday, when I told you about all of it, the way you looked at me…” He drags a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I wasn’t being an ass because you’re incapable. I was being an ass because I was terrified.” He exhales hard, his eyes dark and pained.

I freeze. For a second, I just stare at him. And then I shake my head. No. I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want to hear some half-assed excuse, some desperate attempt to fix what can’t be fixed.

“Terrified?” I let out a harsh breath. “Of what, Rowan? Of a person you couldn’t control? A person who actually fucking stood up to you?”

“No,” he says quickly, urgently. “No, I can handle those just fine. I became terrified of what you make me feel. I became terrified because when I saw that man touch you at the club, the only word that flashed through my head was ‘mine.’ I wanted to kill him for touching you, Livia. I thought it was just physical attraction, but it's so much more. I can’t think straight without you. I woke up today, and I watched you sleep, and you looked so peaceful, so comfortable in my bed. I wanted to make you coffee but didn’t know how you take it. That’s when I realized,” he takes a step closer, “that I want to know everything there is to know about you. Your favorite color, movie, meal, if you prefer ice cream or cake, all of your little habits. To make my home comfortable enough for you to…” he falters, closing his eyes briefly, “to want to stay.”

I blink away the hot tears, and they roll down my face. I want to believe him. But I won't be that stupid ever again. Because there’s nothing I could gain from it. There are no games to play anymore because it’s over. I’m gone. Without my job, I can’t afford to live in LA. He just made sure he never sees me again.

“Please.” He swallows hard, his voice dropping to a whisper.

A lump forms in my throat, thick and suffocating. I hate how much his words hurt. How much they make me want to forgive him. But I can’t.

“None of it matters now.” I shake my head, stepping back.

“How can you say that?” His eyes flash. “It does!”

“No.” I lift my chin, ignoring the way my voice shakes. “It really doesn’t. Because you took my heart, my body, my career, and set them on fire. Because I have nothing left to give you, Rowan.”

I see it then, the moment his heart cracks. His shoulders tense. His lips part like he wants to argue, like he wants to say something else as he reaches for me, but I don’t let him. I take a step back.

“You got what you wanted,” I whisper, my voice aching. “You don’t have to deal with me anymore.”

“Did you listen to a word I said?” His expression twists. “I don’t want you to go—”

“Goodbye, Rowan.”

And this time, when I walk away, I don’t stop. Not when he curses under his breath. Not when he calls my name one last time. Not even when my heart shatters. Because it’s already too late.

Chapter twenty-two

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