“Because I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay under the same roof as you anymore.”
Frowning, I crouch beside the bed. “Why not?”
“It’ll be for the best if we just… pretend we haven’t had sex. That we don’t know each other.”
“Yellow Crayon—”
“Phoebe. No cute nicknames. But you get what you want. I’ll call you Pacino.”
It’s the first time she’s ever said my road name. “What’s going on? What changed? Because if it’s Ryan, I won’t let him get to you. We’re going to keep you safe.”
“It’s not him.”
“Talk to me.”
“It’s just better this way.” Turning her back to me, she says, “I’ll be just fine here. When they realize I don’t mean anything to you, they’ll leave me alone.”
The words sting worse than Nancy’s slap from last night, and I don’t like any of this. It’s obvious I’ve upset her and made her think I don’t care, but I don’t know what exactly it is I did. Not if what Ryan did and said isn’t the reason she’s lying in Sarah’s guest room.
“I’m not leaving without you.”
“Please,” she whispers. “Just leave me alone.”
“Not until you tell me why.”
“Because I’m going to get hurt. There’s no other way around it.”
Color me confused. “My family won’t touch you, Phoebe. I swear it.”
“I’m not worried about them.”
“Damn it, Phoebe, just tell me! Who’s going to hurt you?”
“You.”
I freeze and stand, staring at her back as fear fills me. Did she fake it when we fucked because she didn’t really want it? Had I read the signs all wrong, and she felt obligated to me in some way? Did I hurt her without even realizing it?
But she said she felt safe with me.
“You’re scared of me?”
“I’m scared ofme.”
“Baby, look at me. I don’t understand. I need you to break it down for me like I’m an idiot because right now, I kind of feel like one. Please?”
It takes a few moments, but she finally turns toward me. And when she does, tears stream down her red cheeks. I’m pretty sure having someone shove their hand through my sternum to rip my heart could hurt more than how seeing her like this makes me feel. This is my fault, but I’m not sure why.
“Phoebe, what did I do?”
She may have turned toward me, but she still won’t meet my gaze. And I really don’t like this.
“You can only give so much of yourself, and I’m falling hard. So much so that I’m letting it turn me into someone I used to be. Someone who accepts whatever you decide to give me until the threat disappears. You’ll be done with me, and then I’ll be alone. Again.”
It’s strange seeing her like this. Even drunk, she was mostly jovial. I hate that it really feels like I’m the one breaking her spirit. Maybe it would be better to have her stay with someone else. Someone from the club.
No, I can’t. She’s gotten under my skin in the best ways possible, and I can’t let her go.
“That’s not true.”
