“Peyton,” he said, his voice low and smooth.“How are you?”
My heart leapt.I hated it for that.“I’m great.”A lie, clean and sharp.
I reached for my car door handle.“Have a good weekend.”
“Wait.”His hand pressed flat against the door before I could open it.“Don’t go.”
I looked at him, unimpressed.“Why?”
He stepped closer, his height and presence crowding the space without touching it.His scent wrapped around me, smoke, spice, and familiarity I hadn’t asked for.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“About what?”My tone sharpened.“What do you want?”
That disapproving look crossed his face, the one that used to make my stomach tighten.It didn’t work anymore.
“What do you want, Sir?”
His gaze locked onto mine.“I want you.”
I laughed once, cold, and humorless.“Really?Could’ve fooled me.”
“I had things I needed to work out.”
“Like what?”I shot back.
Silence.
“That’s what I thought.”My voice rose, edged with weeks of restraint snapping loose.“You disappeared.Again.No calls.No texts.No explanation.And now you’re standing here like I’m supposed to be grateful you showed up?”
He started to speak.
I cut him off.
“I’m not waiting around anymore, Creed.I’m not some obedient little puppy you can ignore until it suits you.I’ve had enough of playing by your rules.”
“Peyton—”
“No.”I lifted a hand.“I’m done.”
“If you give me five minutes, I can explain.”
“Explain what?”I demanded.“Why you shut me out whenever things get real?Why you vanish like I don’t matter?”
“You do matter.”His eyes darkened.
“Not enough.”
His jaw flexed, fists tightening at his sides.
“I’m not doing this dance with you anymore,” I said, my voice steady despite the ache underneath.“I want to be loved.I want a real relationship.I have two little girls to raise.I won’t let them watch their mother chase a man who can’t stay.”
“I want to be part of their lives,” he said, stepping closer.“I want to really get to know them.”
I turned on him sharply.“And that’s the problem.”
He stilled.
