Page 101 of What About Us
Her gaze snaps up to mine. “She did?”
I nod. “Then, I got into it with Pop about the ranch when I went to pick up Paige.” It wasn’t really a fight with Pop, but it felt like one. “I took it out on you. I’m an asshole.”
She eyes me for a couple of seconds, then nods. She picks her cuticle, avoiding my gaze.
I let out a long breath through my nose. “And I was upset that you were going out.”
Her head lifts slowly and she bites her lip. “Why?”
Encouraged, I take a deep breath and go on. “Everything with us getting married—what happened the other night—it feels like we’re different.” I pause, watching for her reaction, but she just stares at me. “I mean, it was great, but…”
She continues to avoid my gaze, looking down at her hands, which she folds in her lap. “I know.”
“I don’t want shit to be weird between us.” I run a hand through my hair when she looks back up at me.
I hate that we don’t feel like us, that I’ve let my feelings for her affect what we agreed to. I’m jealous as all hell that she’s going out with other men, or that she even wants to.
“I’m sorry I was an asshole about the shoes. You looked incredible and you deserve to have what you want; to find someone you want to be with. Forgive me?”
She chews the inside of her cheek and then eventually nods. I move around the island and take her hand, pulling her into my arms from where she’s seated at the counter. She grumbles for a couple of seconds, but she wraps her arms around my waist, letting me hold her.
“Are we ok?” I ask, resting my chin on the top of her head.
She nods against my chest. “Thank you for apologizing.”
She feels so good in my arms. I almost can’t stand it. I want to take her upstairs and prove to her just how worthy she is of having someone loveher, worship her, and take care of her. But after everything, it’s probably not the best idea.
“Of course,” I say instead. I look down at her, brushing her hair back from her shoulders. “You’re amazing and beautiful and I really do mean it when I say any man would be lucky to have you.”
She stares up into my eyes but doesn’t answer.
I drop my arms and step back. If I don’t, I’ll kiss her. And I’ve already done enough tonight. I give her hand a squeeze. “I’m gonna head to bed.”
She blinks away and nods, dropping my hand.
“Night,” I say.
She nods, but when I turn to walk away, her hand snags mine again. Her fingers tighten, stopping me. I look at her, and then down at our joined hands now hanging between us. My eyes meet hers, a silent question in them.
“Even you?” She says it so gently, I’m not sure I didn’t imagine the words.
“Even me, what?” I ask.
She swallows and stands up, crowding so close to me that I back up a step, hitting the counter behind me.
“You said any man would be lucky to have me.” Her expression is unreadable, which is saying something because I know all of her looks; all of her tells. I have for years. “Even you?”
“Of course,” I say.
She nods once and then swallows hard. She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and something wars on her face. Indecision, maybe.
“What’s up?“
“Shut up,” she says, breathlessly. Then, she grips the button of her jeans before popping it open. I gape at her like a fish out of water as she pushesthem open and shimmies them off her hips. She kicks them out of the way, and she’s left in her panties and black crop top.
My heart pounds in my ears. “What are you—”
Her gaze snaps to mine and she licks her lips before blowing out a breath. “Just…stop talking.”
