I flung around to face him. “Say something,” I demanded, though even to me, it sounded weak.
In the dim light, he stared back at me, all of those hard, hard scars evident in his eyes. “What do you want me to say, Shea? You want me to lie to you? Make you promises I can’t keep?”
Frantically, I shook my head. “No.”
“Then what?”
Wincing, I jerked my head down and to the side, as if it could avert his blows, the harshness behind his words.
“How about the truth?” he continued, taking a looming step forward. “You want that? Did you not get enough of it tonight? Seeing those girls? Do you have any clue about the kind of life I live?”
My attention flew back to him. “Show me,” I begged, my voice cracking. I couldn’t help bringing us back to that night, when he’d dared me to see him, when I’d already accepted there was no looking away.
Sharp, cutting laughter rocked from him. “You don’t want to see that life. Now that’s something I can promise you.” He pointed to the kitchen door behind him. “Did you look me up while you hid out in there?” It was almost an accusation, and I recoiled at the bitterness he spat from his mouth.
That pretty, pretty mouth that I loved and adored.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.
“Did you see, Shea? Did you see that in a couple of months I’m probably going back to jail? Did you see I’ve been there before?” Grief hitched his breath. “Did you know my best friend died because of me?”
I flinched with every spouted reason he gave for me to hate him, for me to take back my admission. I backed farther into the table, shoulders up to my ears as if it could protect me from the agony he seemed intent on bringing us both.
He promised he would wreck me.
When did I stop believing him?
“You want your daughter around someone like me?”
That one hit me hard, and those tears I’d been trying to keep in check fell, uncontrolled. “Someone like you?” I asked, incredulous, pushing back. “Someone who makes her smile and laugh? Someone who listens to her like a four-year-old has the most important things to say? Someone who steps up to protect her mother? Someone like that?”
“You’re a fool if you think that’s who I really am.”
“And you’re a coward because you refuse to risk allowing that man I see underneath it all to become who you are. A coward because you can’t risk being with a woman who has a kid. A coward because you reject the idea of me loving you…the idea of you loving me…just because you haven’t experienced that in your life before.”
His face screwed up in disbelief. “You think I’m a coward because I can’t be with you? That every fucking second I’m not thinking about you? Wishing things were different so maybe I could have a little bit more time? Something good in my life when I’ve got so much bad? Do you really think I want this life for you, Shea? That I could stand to drag you and Kallie into it?”
I watched the slow roll of his thick neck as he swallowed hard. “Do you have any idea what it’s like? Being in the public eye every day of your life? The traveling? The women who throw themselves at me? The shit I see…the shit that I’m a part of?”
Every bit of it I understood.
“You don’t have to be with any of those women or be a part of any of that shit. It’s a choice, Sebastian.” Leaning forward, I touched my chest, emphasizing each word. “Be. With. Me.”
Pain struck across his expression. “You just don’t get it.”
“So you’re trying to protect me because I’m too stupid and narrow-minded and hick to understand your life?”
“I’m trying to protect you because I don’t trust myself with you.”
Hurt wove into my tone, just as heavily as it wove with my spirit. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“Why do you think I didn’t tell you? For a million reasons. Because I didn’t want you to look at me the way all those other girls look at me…the way that stupid bitch did tonight. I wanted you to see me. Inside me. But the hard truth is that me is the same guy I don’t want you to know. I told you I was no good. There’s so much bad about me and I wish I could erase it all. Be someone different. But I’m not. And just for a little while I wanted to pretend I could be something I’m not.”
“You wanted to pretend. With me?” The words broke. “That’s all this was? Pretend? Because to me? It was real. I’ve never felt anything so real.” My tone hardened. “And you’re a liar if you say you don’t feel it, too.”