Page 121 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
“It’s been two weeks,” I said softly. “Are you fucking insane?”
“Yes.” He touched his forehead to mine. “And it’s your fault, so deal with it.”
I tilted my chin down, turning away slightly. “How do you even know? How are you sure?”
“Didn’t I just tell you? This isn’t the first time I’ve felt like this about you. I was just young and dumb the first time and didn’t have the balls to do anything about it.” He laid his hand against my cheek, pulling my gaze back to meet his blazing blue one as the wool of his glove lightly scratched my skin. “But I’m not young and dumb anymore, and I have the balls to do something about it now.”
“I…” My voice trailed off before I could finish whatever words were forming on my tongue.
Evidently, he was a much braver person than I was.
He could own his feelings.
And I…
Well.
I was a coward.
A weak, weak coward who asked for things she couldn’t give herself.
He smiled softly, but the sadness that flickered in his eyes as he pulled away sliced through me as if they were literal blades against my skin. “I’ll take you home now, all right? This week is busy for you.”
“Wait.”
“We should go.” He released me and got up, pausing only to scoop up his polystyrene cup.
No.
This wasn’t what I wanted.
What was wrong with me? I’d forced him to tell me how he felt, but when it came down to it, I couldn’t say anything more than the merest uttering of a word.
Even now, I was nothing more than a puppet being pulled along by him. He was barely holding my hand. It was more him holding onto my fingers and tugging me behind him thananything else, but there was nothing I could do other than let myself fall prey to his whims right now.
Then again, what could I do? I’d asked him to tell me about his true feelings for my own selfish reasons.
Maybe this was his selfishness.
Maybe not looking at me, not talking to me, not doing anything other than dragging me along behind him was Thomas’ way of being selfish to protect himself.
And I couldn’t judge him for doing something I’d just done.
I got into the passenger side of his car and stared out of the window. He backed out of the spot, and without paying me the blindest bit of attention, pulled away to the road that would lead us to my house.
Shit.
When did I start thinking of it as my house? Not my grandparents’ house?
Who was I to judge Thomas for his feelings when my own were just as unexpected and convoluted?
I never should have agreed to plan Hazel’s wedding.
I never should have come back to Castleton.
I never should have run into Thomas.
I never should have accepted his help.
