“I wonder why,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. The sarcasm slid out sharp. I hated that too. It wasn’t how I usually dealt with uncomfortable situations. But he hurt me, and pretending he didn’t wasn’t working anymore.
He kept watching me as I reached for my favorite pretzels.
“Lana.”
I ignored him, but my body trembled. I begged myself to keep it together. I couldn’t get emotional. Not here.
“Lana, look at me.”
“I’m fine, Callan. We’re cool.”
“We clearly aren’t.” He reached for my elbow when I tried to turn away. His grip was firm but not rough, and he forced me to look at him by stepping closer. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
My eyes burned, and I hated that they did. I stared up at him and swallowed hard to force the tears to stay where they were. Shaking my head, I freed my arm from his grip. “Nothing’s bothering me.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m not lying.”
He gave a short, humorless laugh. “It’s written all over your face. Tell me what’s bothering you. What did I do wrong?”
“Can we not do this here?” I hissed, glancing down the aisle. Only an older man stood at the far end, but I still didn’t want to argue with Callan in the middle of the grocery store.
“Lana, tell me what the fuck I did wrong so I can fix it.”
I let out a quiet laugh. “The fact that you don’t know doesn’t help.”
His jaw flexed. Anger flashed in his eyes, but it wasn’t aimed at me. He was furious with himself, and for once, that felt deserved.
“Is it because I left that night?”
“Bull’s-eye,” I muttered, crossing my arms.
He sucked in a breath and shook his head, then dragged a hand over his buzzed hair. “I know that was a dick move.”
“Oh, that’s surprising.”
“Lana,” he sighed. He stepped closer. “Let me apologize.”
The words hit me harder than I expected. I stiffened, stunned that he actually said that out loud. I stared at him and waited for him to say more.
“I know I shouldn’t have left like that. I should’ve made sure you were okay.”
“That’s not really what I’m upset about,” I told him.
“Then what is it?”
The words were right there on my tongue, but I didn’t know how to say them out loud without causing a misunderstanding. I clenched my jaw and held my breath for a moment. “I’m upset because you took me out to dinner first and brought me to my favorite place in the whole city after. I’m not saying you had to fall asleep with your arms around me, but a little decency would’ve been nice. Maybe you could’ve told me that you just wanted to have sex. I would’ve given it to you without the sushi and stargazing.”
My words stung me more than I thought they would, and they made me feel and sound cheap and pathetic. Even if he hadtold me what his goal had been that night, I probably wouldn’t have said yes because the idea of letting him take me out and lead me on was nicer. It was stupid and naïve, and I knew it didn’t make sense. I told myself I should at least be taken on a date before sleeping with him because I deserved that much, but at the same time, I believed I was worth more than a one-night stand.
His silence was heavy, and I immediately regretted saying it. I looked down at my shoes, wishing I could take it all back, and wishing that for once, I would’ve kept my mouth shut.
“Lana,” he said. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting my chin up until I had to look at him. The anger in his eyes was gone, replaced by what looked like regret. But I couldn’t be sure. I hadn’t always read him correctly, and that was probably what had caused all this.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” I mumbled, trying to pull my chin away, but his grip was firm.
“No, you should have.” His thumb brushed my jawline. “You’re right, and I’m sorry for not communicating what my intentions were. And I know I could say all the cliché shit to try and make you feel better, but that wouldn’t be enough. I fucked up, took advantage of the situation, and then ran like a coward.”
