Page 29 of Shameless

It’s disheartening to realize that I wasn’t wrong about the regret. It’s there, overpowering everything else swimming around in his dark depths. The passionate man from moments ago is now long gone, almost as if he’d never been there to begin with, and the previous twenty minutes were nothing more than a figment of my overactive imagination.

I lift my chin higher and hold his gaze. I’ve never played the part of shrinking violet, and I refuse to do it now.

“That was a mistake,” he mutters.

Ouch.

The one thing I’ve never been called is a mistake.

Although, in all honesty, it’s not like I didn’t see this coming from a mile away.

I tilt my head and force myself to remain calm. “You think so?”

Storm clouds gather in his eyes. “You know it was.” He shoves a hand through his hair for a second time before breaking eye contact. “Look, I’m sor—”

“I don’t want your regret,” I say sharply, cutting him off.

Him trying to apologize for giving me the best orgasm of my life is just the icing on the cake.

He glances away as remorse flickers across his expression. It’s obvious from his reaction that he has no idea what to say or how to smooth over this situation.

Unwilling to stand here for another second, I snap, “How much do I owe you for the repair?”

His surprised gaze darts to mine. If he was expecting me to throw a tantrum or cry and pout, it’ll be a cold day in hell before that happens. I have way too much self-respect for that kind of behavior.

“Um, nothing. It was just your alternator. I had a spare one sitting around the shop. So, it’s all good.”

It’s so tempting to argue.

I don’t want to be beholden to this man for anything.

Instead, I jerk my head into a tight nod and hold out my hand.

When he stares at my palm in confusion, I say, “I’d like my keys.”

“Um, yeah.” Something I can’t quite decipher flickers across his expression before he swings away, stalking to the counter. Hanging above the length of linoleum is a key holder with three sets dangling from it. He grabs the middle one before swallowing up the distance until he’s close enough for his woodsy aftershave to tease my senses. It takes effort to steel myself against the intoxicating scent and not inhale a big breath into my lungs.

“Here you go,” he says.

Without making contact, I grab the keys before whirling away and stalking toward the exit. Even though I was raised with manners, I can’t bring myself to say thank you.

“Poppy,” he rasps as I reach the door.

Hope rises reluctantly within me. Given his asshole behavior, I wasn’t expecting him to stop me. My step falters as I glance over my shoulder and meet his gaze.

“Stay away from the kid.”

And just like that, my heart crashes to the bottom of my toes.

Not bothering with a response, I stride out of the barn without a backwards look.

Mason

Imanage to keep it together until her VW rolls down the gravel drive and turns onto the county road that leads to town. As soon as she’s gone, I lose it. Bitter regret and anger churn in the pit of my gut before bubbling up like a geyser. I storm to the counter and grab her broken alternator before hurling it across the open space. It crashes against the barn wall before dropping to the concrete where it clanks, shattering the silence of the afternoon.

Fuck.

Fuck.

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