Page 135 of A Vicious Love

That was new.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he said.

I looked back at him.

“What?”

“At the table.” His jaw moved. “What I said.”

I waited.

He seemed to be fighting every word before it left his mouth, as if saying something kind required him to drag it over broken glass first.

“You asked a question,” he said. “I was rude.”

Rude was such a small word for how small he had made me feel.

“It’s fine.”

His eyes sharpened. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Say it’s fine when it isn’t.”

I looked at him for a long moment. He had no right to sound irritated by the very habit he had helped create.

“It is fine,” I said, gentler than I felt. “I understand now.”

“Understand what?”

My fingers tightened around my purse. I should have stopped. I knew I should have. But the hurt had been sitting in my chest since he said it. I was drunk. Don’t make it into something it wasn’t. The words had been turning over inside me cutting little new places each time.

“I understand the kiss was a mistake,” I said.

“What?”

My throat tightened, but I made myself keep going because if I did not say it now, I would carry it home and let it become another thing I blamed myself for wanting.

“You were drunk.” I forced a tiny smile because my face did that when I was trying not to cry. “You said so. I shouldn’t have made it bigger than it was.”

His eyes darkened. “Sienna.”

“It’s okay. Really. I know you probably kiss women all the time.”

His face changed.

I had never seen that expression on Jamison before. Shock, maybe. Then something worse because it looked almost like hurt, and I did not know what to do with Jamison Crow hurt by something I said.

“I don’t,” he said.

I looked down.

“You don’t have to explain.”

“Yes, I fucking do.”

The sharpness made my shoulders tighten.