Page 15 of Sacrifice
"It's not like that."
"Really? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks exactly like that." He signals the waiter for the check. "Look, Saga, you're beautiful and smart and fun. But this? Whatever this is with that guy? I can't compete with it."
"Brandon—"
"He's right, isn't he? You are trying to prove something. Using me to do it."
The truth stings. "That's not... I like you."
"But you want him."
I can't deny it. Won't lie to him more than I already have.
"I'm sorry," I say quietly.
"Yeah, me too." The waiter brings the check, and Brandon throws down cash without looking at the total. "Good luck with that. You're going to need it."
He stands to leave, then pauses. "For what it's worth? The intensity's kind of hot. But that man's going to eat you alive."
"I know," I admit.
Brandon leaves, and I'm alone at a table for two, Emil's eyes burning into my back.
I should go.
I should get up, walk out, and keep what's left of my dignity.
Instead, I signal the waiter for another glass of wine.
Five minutes pass, then ten.
I'm on my second glass when the chair across from me fills again.
"He left you," Emil observes.
"You ran him off."
"He was already looking for an excuse." Emil takes the wine from my hand, drinks. "You terrify him."
"I terrify him? You're the one making threats."
"I didn't threaten anyone. Just stated facts."
"You're insane."
"Probably." He finishes my wine, sets the glass down. "You ready to stop running yet?"
"I'm not running."
"Three dates with a man you don't want. What would you call it?"
"Moving on."
"Bullshit." He leans back, studying me. "You know what I think?"
"I don't care what you think."
"I think you're scared." His voice is quiet, serious. "Not of me. Of how I make you feel. Of wanting something real instead of safe."
