Page 66 of Hot in Witch City
“No, I couldn’t tell you because…” I motioned to her. “I knew it’s not what you wanted.
“Sounds like lying to me.” She crossed her arms. “You’ve been playing with me this whole time, haven’t you?”
My eyes widened. “What? Of course not.”
She gestured with a harsh wave. “Just stringing me along. Pretending to be casual. It was all faked, so you could trick me into being with you!”
I expected her to react strongly, but accuse me like this? “No, Gianna. Listen to me.”
“No, I won’t.” She climbed out of bed and pulled on her panties. “You’re just as bad as him.”
“Who?” I stood and found my boxer shorts, putting them on.
She yanked a faded, oversized Whitesnake T-shirt over her head. “My father.”
I blinked at her. “Your father?” Where did this come from and what the hell was going on? “Why are you comparing me to him?”
“You deceived me. Just like he has. You’re trying to get me to fall for you, knowing I don’t want this.” She motioned between us.
Frustration churned, and I grasped my hair. “That’s exactly why I didn’t push it,” I exploded. “I was trying to respect your damn wishes!”
“What?” she stared at me with a perplexed expression.
“How do you think it feels to want someone so badly? To think she cares somewhat for you, or at least wants to sleep with you. But you’re unable to talk about it with her because you know it might upset her. I’ve kept my feelings to myself for you.”
“This is too much.” She raised both hands to the sides of her head. “I can’t deal with another lie. I can’t handle one more thing in my screwed-up life right now. Please go.” She pointed to her bedroom door.
“Don’t do this,” I said.
“Sebastian...” Her chest rose and fell with escalated breaths.
"Damn it, Gianna. All I want to do is care for you and protect you. Don’t push me away.”
She brought her fingers in between her brows. “Oh my God. Not this, too.”
“Not what?”
She shook her hands. “You’re just like him. Why do you think I need to be taken care of? Protected? I’ve been taking care of myself for a long damn time now.” She pointed at me. “And don’t you dare say it’s what’s best for me because how the hell do you know?”
Aware that I was standing there like an idiot in my boxers while she yelled at me, I found the sense to pull on my clothes. “Why are you freaking out? I thought we were friends at the very least.”
She sneered. “Friends don’t lie—and try to control each other.”
“I’m not trying to control you,” I protested.
“You are,” she snapped. “By saying I’m your mate. I’m not yours. I’m not anyone’s to have and control!”
“Holy fuck, Gianna!” I strode over to her in two steps and took her raised arm by the wrist. “Do you think I planned this? That I’d be crazy enough to choose to fall for someone who doesn’t want what I ache for with every part of my being?”
“And what’s that?”
“To be with you.”
We stared at each other, faces inches apart. The only sound was our rapid breathing. I released her arm.
The anger flashing in her eyes was replaced by a glimpse of vulnerability. Was I finally—finally—breaking through?
“I’m not the right woman for you, Sebastian. You deserve someone much better than me.” She stepped to the side. “Someone without all my issues.”
