“Why would I? Does it matter anymore?”
Rafe pushed off the wall and stepped closer, body drawn up tight. “It matters because it’s not a coincidence that you’re here.”
“You’re right. It’s not.”
“But you’re gonna let her think that it is.”
Holt studied Rafe for a moment. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.”
“The fuck you don’t,” he hissed, shedding the casualness as he stood tall.
“I don’t,” Rafe repeated. “Not about you. I care about her.”
“And you don’t think I do?” Holt stepped forward until they were nearly toe to toe. “This isn’t a game for me. She’s not a conquest. I care about her.”
Rafe pulled back as though Holt had slapped him.
“Does that bother you? That I have feelings for her?”
Rafe didn’t answer, but Holt could see it in his eyes. Something bothered him.
“I know how she feels about you, Rafe.”
That glimmer of emotion vanished with Rafe’s excuse. “We’re friends. That’s all.”
“Bullshit.” Holt wasn’t buying that for a second. “Shelovesyou.”
“And what? You think you’re tryin’ to play matchmaker by…”
“By fucking her?”
Rafe grabbed his shirt and jerked. “Don’t you dare disrespect her.”
“Never,” Holt bit out, leaning into Rafe rather than pulling away. “I happen to love her, too.”
Rafe’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“You heard me.”
If Holt wasn’t mistaken, that admission had hit Rafe like a gut punch.
Holt leaned in and lowered his voice. “But it doesn’t change how either of us feels about you.”
“Don’t pretend you have feelings for me. If you did…”
“If I did,what? I would’ve come after you?” Holt had suspected that was Rafe’s problem with him. It wasn’t that he’d shown up after all this time. It was that he hadn’t come sooner.
“Fuck you.”
Holt kept his voice even, civil. “I want you, Rafe. I have since the day I met you. What we had … that doesn’t happen every fucking day. But you’re the one who walked away. Not me.”
Rafe swallowed, his eyes bouncing over Holt’s face.
“But I came after you. It took me a while because I needed to be right in the head before I did.”
“You think you’re right in the head now?”
