Infinite Us(34)

"There is something happening here and you're running from it."

That had me laughing, a quick, cruel sound that tightened her mouth until there were small lines around her lips. "It ain't like that."

"Something happened to you." Just as she said that a quick breeze floated around us, pushing her bangs into her eyes. She reached up to brush them back. "Something happened to me, too. I don't know what it is, Nash, but there is something between us."

"That isn't what's happening here."

"If there was nothing happening, you wouldn't be avoiding me." She stepped closer and I refused to back up, to show weakness in retreating, but I couldn't hide how shallow my breath had become. She spotted it. "If there was nothing, you wouldn't be so nervous when I get close to you."

I did step back then, I had to, and I thought she might follow. Willow was a pushy sort of female, the kind that didn't back away just because you wanted them to. She got inside your head, claws sharp and deep and wouldn't let you go without a fight. Part of me liked that about her. The other part of me, the one that reminded me I didn't need a damn thing but my brain and ambition to get what I wanted, that voice was loud and obnoxious.

But you don't get rid of a claws-deep woman just by pushing them away. You strike, you hurt and just then, I wanted to hurt Willow so deep that she'd have no choice but to drop me like a toxic bomb. "I'm nervous because you're insane. Certifiable. I'm not into you." I put a little gravel in my voice just then, ignoring how wide Willow's eyes had gone at my insult, how she let her mouth drop open like a guppy out of its tank. "There is nothing happening here."

"I am not crazy."

Just then, she didn't look convincing and I understood why. This was the woman who believed in auras. She was the same female who pulled me into her boho madhouse because one glance at me told her there was something wrong with me. I wouldn't admit to her she'd been right about that, but who she was, how she was, I understood why she was so insulted. I was willing to bet it wasn't the first time someone had called her crazy. It sure as hell pissed her off.

It hurt just a little to see that frown, but my plan had been to keep her away. My plan had been to remember the work I'd spent years doing, to keep focused because I was nearly there, had nearly made it. My plans didn't include some white-assed hippie chick who promised things with a look, who expected the same from me. 

I needed her angry. I needed Willow to hate me. "Whatever you say, nutjob."

I expected her to rage, to fight back. To come at me swinging. Instead, she didn't flinch, or even frown at my insult. It was almost as if she had expected me to be an asshole. And hell, I wasn't ready for how cool, how cruel, how correct she could be. It only took a small brush of her hand under her chin and that sad, disgusted frown to show that she could see through me.

"You're such a coward."

It was a gut punch I hated feeling, one I tried hard not let show on my face. "What did you say to me?"

"You heard me and you know it's true." She was in my face with three small steps, taunting me, accusing me. "You're running. You felt something between us. That night in my apartment, then in yours. There is something happening, I have no idea what it is, but you feel it too."

"No. I don't!" Willow stepped back when I yelled, but she didn't cower. . I desperately held on to my lie, despite feeling like I was being outmaneuvered. "Sorry to bust your bubble, nut job, but no. The only thing happening is I have a crazy ass neighbor who keeps leaving cupcakes at my door. The same crazy neighbor who pulled me into her apartment the first night we met because she swore she could see my aura." I made sure to accent that word as sarcastically as possible. "So yeah … like I said … crazy."

Willow stood her ground, that same impassive frown pinching her features, her eyes hard and sparking. She didn't buy my excuses and that look of hers was nailing me to the wall despite my noise and the shit I was trying to spill. Willow might be a little weird, she might be a lot in her own world, but she wasn't afraid of a damn thing-not me, not my loud yelling voice or the thing that pulsed between us, the very same thing I refused to admit was there.

"You'll figure it out. Eventually," she said, stepping back. "One day you'll get over your issues and admit that I'm right."

"I damn well won't."

"And when you do," she interrupted, cocked up an eyebrow, curious, a little worried before her expression changed and her lips twitched. "Maybe then, Nash, you'll stop running from whatever it is that's got you spooked."

It was another gut punch moment. I'd only ever heard that expression once in my life and it had never come out of Willow's mouth.