At Any Price(100)
Hot anger pooled, settled into my joints, stiffening them. “I’m pissed at you for not telling me the truth. How’s that? I may have been preparing myself to lose you tomorrow, but not Fallen.”
“You don’t have to lose either one of us,” he said quietly.
I put my hands to my forehead. The whole concept made my brain ache. “You are still two separate people in my head. I haven’t even had a chance to absorb any of this and you demand to know my feelings? I don’t even know what the fuck they are.”
He stood and walked toward me slowly, as if I were a scared rabbit that might hop away from any sudden movement. The ambient light gleamed on his muscular torso, his pants slung low on his hips. He was so damn sexy he took my breath away, even when he was irritating the hell out of me. He stood very close but didn’t touch me.
“Then allow yourself the time to figure it out. Give us the time.”
I sighed and looked away, off to the side, anywhere but at him. “No.”
His hands came up to take my shoulders in a gentle hold. When he spoke, his voice had a desperate edge to it. “Emilia—”
“No!” I gritted out between clenched teeth, finally meeting his gaze. “Explain to me about this fairy tale you are proposing. About how something like this is supposed to even work—even beyond the trust issues, which are monumental at this point. With my two jobs and preparing for medical school and your hundred-hour workweek, how would something like that work? Neither of us even date.”
“It’s not a fairy tale. It’s a real life, honest, grown-up relationship where two adults work out their differences once they decide they want to be together—”
I pulled back against his hold on my shoulders and he dropped his arms. I continued to back away. “Is all this because you feel guilty about us sleeping together even though you never planned for it to go this far?”
He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “No.” His fist knotted.
“I think it is.”
His head darted up to pin me down with an angry glare. “Well, you’re wrong. You have no fucking idea what is going through my mind, so stop twisting things to support your cynical and warped view on the world.”
I stood still, stunned. I’d never seen an angry outburst from him. I put up a hand in surrender. “Fine. I’m sorry for doing that. I hate it when people do it to me.”
He fixed his unwavering gaze on me. “Why aren’t you willing to give it a chance?”
I took a deep breath. “Because I don’t want a relationship. Not with you. Not with anyone.”
“Why?”
Frustration crawled up my spine, tightening that knot between my shoulders. I put my hands to my temples, closing my eyes. “You are making me crazy, Adam.”
“Because I’m forcing this conversation when you want to avoid it? It’s been the elephant in the room for days—weeks, now—and I’m not going to shove it aside any longer, no matter how uncomfortable it makes you. When we get back to California, I want to know where we stand. Exactly where we stand.”
My mouth set, irritation burning like hot lava. “You’ll be standing in your office somewhere in Irvine and I’ll be standing in my apartment in Orange.”
He folded his arms across his chest and angled his head, studying me. “I’m not amused.”
“Quit trying to save me. I don’t need you to save me.”
He blinked. “Emilia, I’m telling you I want you in my life. I want a relationship with you—as equals—and you somehow twist me into your knight protector coming to a meek maiden’s rescue?”
I sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Isn’t that what it is?”
He shook his head. “That bastard really fucked you up good. He’s screwed you because in every decision you make for the rest of your life, you’ll never even consider trusting someone enough to allow them in.”
I tensed. “I did my therapy. I’m fine. That little shithead has no part in what decisions I make—”
He exhaled in exasperation. “I was talking about your father.”
Those words hit me like a blow, knocking my breath away. I held up a hand to ward off any more words he might consider hurling my way. Because they stung, like darts sinking into my skin.
I fought for breath. Memories of taunts on the playground from my erstwhile friends—Mia doesn’t have a daddy. She’s never had a daddy. At least their daddies came to see them on the weekends, or took them on fancy vacations once in a while. Mine just wished I’d never existed, if he ever thought of me at all.