James stared at me for a long moment, and I could see him weighing his options. Push harder and risk another fight, or let it go and maintain the fragile peace we’d barely established.
“Fine,” he said finally. “We’ll drop it. But you need to stop acting like I have the plague. We’re living together. We have to be able to exist in the same room.”
“I can exist in the same room as you.”
“Really? Because you won’t even look at me right now.”
He was right again. I’d been staring at a spot just over his shoulder, unable to meet his eyes. I forced myself to look at him directly, to hold his gaze.
That was a mistake.
Because the second our eyes met, everything I’d been trying to suppress came roaring back. The want. The confusion. The horrible, undeniable attraction that made me want to cross the room and?—
I looked away first, my breath coming too fast.
“See?” James’s voice was soft, almost sad. “You can’t even do it.”
“It’s not—” I ran a hand through my damp hair, frustrated. “It’s complicated, okay? Just give me some time to figure my shit out.”
“Figure what out, exactly?”
Everything, I wanted to say. Why I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Why the idea of you with someone else makes me want to punch walls. Why I’m questioning things about myself I thought were set in stone.
“Nothing,” I said instead. “Just work stuff. The Belltown project is behind schedule and?—”
“Stop lying to me.”
The words hit like a slap. James took a step closer, his expression hardening.
“I’m done with your lies, Kent. Done with you pretending everything’s fine when it clearly isn’t.” Another step. “You want me to back off? Fine. But stop acting like I’m the one making this weird when we both know what’s really going on here.”
My heart was thundering now. “And what’s that?”
“You tell me.” He was close enough now that I could smell him, that same clean scent that had been driving me crazy for days. “What’s really going on, Kent? Why can’t you stand the thought of me with someone else?”
“I never said?—”
“You didn’t have to.” His eyes searched mine, looking for something I wasn’t ready to give. “I’m not Brittany,” he said, taking a left turn I didn’t expect, but was grateful for. Anything to avoid talking about a truth I couldn’t explain. “And I don’t need your protection. You had your chance to play big brother when we were kids, and you chose to bully me instead. So don’t think you get to tell me what I can and can’t do now.”
“I’m not trying to protect you,” I said, but the words sounded weak even to my ears.
“Then what are you trying to do?” He was so close now that I could see the flecks of gold in his eyes. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re trying to control me.”
“That’s not—” I stopped, my jaw clenching. He was baiting me, pushing me to admit something I couldn’t even admit to myself. “You don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.” His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “Tell me what you’re so afraid of.”
Everything. I was afraid of everything. Of the way my body responded to him. Of the thoughts that invaded my mind at night. Of the fact that everything I thought I knew about myself was crumbling like wet cardboard.
“I’m not afraid,” I lied.
“You know what? Fine,” he said, standing up from his chair. “I don’t have time to sit here and argue with you. I’ve got a date.”
“You what?!”
“Yeah,” he grumbled, grabbing the hoodie from the edge of his bed and pulling it over his head. “Remember when you picked a fight with me and ruined my plans for the night? We rescheduled.” He marched across the room, pocketing his keys and phone. “So, I’m going to go have fun and you can sit here and be mad about it or whatever the fuck is wrong with you. I don’t care.”
Something snapped inside me.
