I looked away and my eyes fell on the empty bottle of cheap vodka and glass I’d left on the kitchen table last night. Heat flooded my cheeks as I grabbed the bottle and threw it in the trash.
“Is there a reason you’re still here?” I asked when I could no longer take the silence or his staring. “I’m sure Charlotte is wondering where you are.” I couldn’t help the bitterness in my voice as I finally forced my gaze to meet his.
“Charlotte’s an employee,” he said firmly. “Nothing more.”
I remembered what Clarice said and thought about throwing that in his face, but decided to let it go. It didn’t matter anyway and my pursuing it would just make me sound like a jealous bitch.
Which I totally wasn’t.
The gray of his eyes sparked too many memories, the sight of him standing in my apartment making me remember the time we’d spent together. Now he seemed a stranger to me.
A stranger who’d once pushed me down on the counter behind him so he could bury his head between my legs.
My hand shook and coffee sloshed over the side of the mug, burning my hand. I hissed and quickly set the mug down, putting the burned skin to my mouth.
“You should eat something,” Blane said, his eyes following my movements.
I arched an eyebrow. “Really?” I deadpanned. “You’re concerned about my diet now?” This was turning more surreal by the moment.
Blane’s gaze moved slowly down my body and back up. I stiffened when his eyes paused briefly at the gold locket I wore. Kade had given it to me for Christmas and it contained a tiny photo of my parents. I never took it off.
“You’re too thin,” he said roughly, thankfully not commenting on the locket. “And there’s hardly any food in your refrigerator.”
He’d gone through my refrigerator? My head felt like it was going to explode, I got so angry so fast.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” I seethed. “You break into my apartment, refuse to leave, and now you’re snooping through my things?” My fists were clenched at my sides as I tried valiantly to keep calm, when all I really wanted to do was attack him until all the anger and pain and despair inside me went away.
I swear his face paled underneath his tan.
“I’m… sorry,” he said, and his voice was thick. He swallowed, his eyes locked on mine.
A little of my anger leached away at this, the first sign that he felt anything at all.
“I’m sorry for… a lot of things,” he continued. “And I’m not here expecting forgiveness. I know I don’t deserve that from you.” He paused. “But I can’t stop… caring… about you. Thinking about you. Wondering how you are, what you’re doing.”
These were words I’d wanted to hear for months, and a part of me was stunned at what he was saying, not ever having really expected it of him. But the other part of me, the part still encased in ice, was left… unmoved.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I finally replied with a small shrug. “You’re right—I can’t forgive you. Not right now. You said I’d betrayed you, when really it was you who betrayed me. You didn’t believe in me, in us.”
Blane was absolutely still as I spoke, his arms crossed tight over his chest, his gaze intently focused on mine, and I had the passing thought that maybe I wasn’t the only one barely holding myself together.
“Why are we having this conversation now?” I asked. “Because of Gage? Were you going to say these things to me without that threat?”
“I just thought… maybe… we could be friends,” he said.
I gaped at him in disbelief. “You’re not serious.” I laughed, and the sound was slightly hysterical even to my own ears.
Blane moved until he stood right in front of me and my laughter died a quick death. He reached for a lock of my damp hair, and this time I didn’t flinch.
“I drive by, all the time,” he said, his voice hardly above a whisper. “Just to see if you’re home. I’ve called so many times, only to hang up. I see you when I close my eyes at night. I smell your perfume at work and turn around, every time praying it’s you… but it never is.”
I studied his eyes and couldn’t deny that I dearly wanted to lean forward, let Blane wrap his arms around me, and forget the past three months had ever happened.
I’d be an utter fool to do that.
I cleared my throat. “That sounds real sweet,” I said quietly. “But we’re over, Blane. You about killed me, twice, and I’m not so stupid as to ever trust you again.”
His expression turned blank and he gave a curt nod. “I see. Then why all the booze, Kat?”
I stiffened at the nickname. He’d given up nickname privileges. “What are you talking about?”
“You never used to drink so much, at least not without cause. Why is there more vodka in your freezer than food? Why is it every time you’re at work, there’s a drink nearby?”
The blood left my face in a rush. “Were you spying on me?” It was hard to wrap my head around that.
“I’ve been around,” he said evasively. “But I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”
“You’ve talked to other people about me?” Now the blood came rushing back, as did my anger. “You’ve sat around discussing me like I’m some sort of… of… pity case?” I tried to push past him, needing some space, but he grabbed me, his hands closing on my arm.
“Not other people,” he said. “Clarice. She’s worried about you. I am, too.”
“I’m fine,” I gritted out. “Get over yourself, Blane. I drink more now because it’s my choice. It has nothing to do with you.” That wasn’t precisely true, but the truth didn’t matter. I was humiliated that Clarice would talk to Blane about me. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“I’m not going away, Kat, whether you want me to or not. I’m not going to let Gage send someone to hurt you. And I’m not going to let you hurt yourself, either.”
My pride took a beating at that last part and I struggled not to let it show. “Fabulous. Get out.”
Blane’s jaw was clenched tight, our gazes locked together, but he released me and stepped away. I didn’t breathe properly until the door had shut behind him, then I sagged against the wall, letting it hold me up.
My instinct was to go next door and talk to Alisha, my friend and neighbor, but I knew she was out of the town for the weekend with her boyfriend, Lewis. My next thought was to reach for the vodka inside my freezer, but Blane’s words stilled my hand. Yes, I’d been drinking more lately, but if he hadn’t shown up out of the blue, I wouldn’t have drunk as much as I had last night. So really, it was his fault.
I sighed, pushing a hand through my damp hair. I really, really hated to admit that Blane had a point about anything, but he probably did about the alcohol. I’d been using it too much as a crutch these past few months. Apparently, so much so that Clarice had felt the need to tell Blane.
Shame and humiliation washed over me. Clarice and I were going to have a talk. She’d broken my trust, and no matter how well intentioned, that didn’t sit well with me.
And Blane had been spying on me in the bar? I remembered last night, when I’d felt as though someone was watching me. Had that been him? How long had he been outside, watching? Long enough to see me get propositioned for a threesome by those guys?
As if that event in itself hadn’t made me feel sleazy, suspecting Blane had seen the whole thing sealed the deal.
I pushed the thought aside. I couldn’t dwell on it or I’d wallow in self-pitying misery all day. I’d never kidded myself that Blane and I were of the same class, but I’d always had my dignity. Between Clarice insinuating to Blane that I was a drunken mess without him and the guys last night treating me like an easy hookup, my dignity lay in tatters at my feet.