Page 65 of Homebody
“Dean, I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”
He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Sorry for what?” It was a challenge as much as a question.
“Foreverything. For… for saying yes to your mother’s offer in the first place. For not telling you about our deal the moment you and I started to get close. For pretending to be someone I’m not…” She shook her head unable to encapsulate in words all of her many regrets.
“For having sex with me?” he asked, a strange look on his face.
She shook her head. “No. I’m not sorry about that.”
“Mom must have paid you a lot to include that particular service.”
She sucked in a sharp breath at the insult. “Ouch.”
He dropped his chin to his chest. “That was harsh. I’m sorry. I just don’t understand. Any of it.”
Braver than she thought she could be, she took a step forward. Then another until she was standing in front of him. But not too close. The expression on his face prevented her from moving any closer.
“Let me help you understand.”
He let out a short bitter laugh. “You think that’s possible?”
She swallowed hard. “I hope so.”
Any hope for her future happiness depended on it.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Dammit. He believed Tessa. Every damn word. Her lies still hurt like hell, but Dean believed what she was saying to him now.
Her fear of being evicted because she couldn’t make rent. The pressure Ruby, her boss, had put on her to comply. Not to mention his mother. Dean knew well how persistent his mother could be when she set her mind on something. And he believed Tessa when she said once she got herself embroiled in the deception she didn’t know how to get out of it. Not without betraying his mother. Or hurting him.
“Once things between us… progressed.” Her cheeks flushed at the word progressed, no doubt a euphemism for them getting naked and sweaty together.
“You still should have told me.”
“I know. I was too afraid. Afraid you’d hate me for lying. For not telling you everything immediately. There seemed like no good answer, so I kept putting it off.”
“Didn’t you think I would find out?” he asked.
“No. You were leaving.” Her voice broke on the last word as her eyes turned glassy.
Hell, he felt like crying himself. He might as well push this a little further. Make himself completely miserable. Maybe the truth would help him get over her… eventually.
“Was any of it real?” he asked, his throat tight.
“Yes. All of it was real?—”
His brows shot up at that bullshit.
She drew in a breath. “Except for how we met and the reason for my research paper, it was all real. Dean, I loved everything about our time together. Dinner at the lake. Feeding the homeless. You surprising me with the sofa. The beautiful flowers you sent. What we… did together. Do you really think I could fakethat?”
“I guess not. But Tessa, you hurt me.” Why he was baring his soul and admitting that to her he didn’t know.
“I hurt too. More than you can possibly imagine.”
He grunted. “Oh, I think I can imagine.”
“Do you think maybe we can be friends?” she asked.
