Page 58 of The Billionaire's Promise

"What do you mean? It's a carriage house. No one uses it, as I'm sure you could tell. Where did you get the key?" I asked.

"It was in the kitchen drawer," he said, shrugging. "I think we should empty it out and turn it into a studio. Then I could work there instead of going in to the loft every day."

I stared at him, speechless. Converting the carriage house to be used as a studio would be a major renovation. Vance's work was a fire hazard. The first floor of his loft had been specifically designed to accommodate his welding equipment. If he wanted to use the carriage house as a studio, we’d have to gut the building and redesign it from the inside. That was a big deal. A huge commitment.

This house, the property, were the only things I had of my grandparents. I hadn't even redecorated, even though a lot of the furniture didn't suit my style. Tearing out the inside of one of the buildings to give Vance a studio? I struggled to find words.

"Magnolia? What? Don't you think it would work?"

"I don't . . . I think . . ." An awful realization washed through me, and words tumbled out. "I think you need to move out." I snapped my mouth shut in horror.

Had I just said that? Vance's eyes widened and his face went pale. I guess I had. I hadn't even been thinking it. I'd just opened my mouth and heard myself speak with no input from my brain.

"You want me to move out? Babe, we don't have to do anything with the carriage house. It was just an idea," he said, turning to grab a coffee cup and filling it.

My stomach rolled with nerves and dismay. I could take it back. I wasn't sure Vance had really heard me. I opened my mouth again, planning to apologize.

"I think you need to move out," I repeated. I spoke as if on autopilot, my voice flat. "I don't think I can do this with you anymore."

"Do what with me?" he asked, eyeing me warily.

"You and me. I can't do this. Everything changed so fast after you found Rosie. You both moved in, and then we were sleeping together, and now you want me to remodel my house so you can work here . . ."

My voice trailed off, and I wished desperately for the words to explain how I felt, but everything that popped into my head made me sound too vulnerable. Needy. I was tired of feeling needy.

"Magnolia—" he started, and I interrupted.

"My whole life is about you and Rosie," I said. "Now you want a studio here, and I don't even know what we're doing together. I can’t keep playing house with you. I love Rosie. I—"

I almost said it.I love you. I bit my tongue hard. I was not going to tell him I loved him. I was not putting myself out there like that. He stared at me, incomprehension all over his face. Did he really not get it?

Apparently, he didn't because he said, "We're not playing house, Magnolia. That's not what this is."

"Then what is it, Vance? If we’re not playing house, then what are we doing?"

"We're together," he said in an exasperated tone that implied I should know what that meant.

My frustration exploded out of me in a tirade of words. "What does that mean, we're together? Together, like we're friends who sleep together? Together, like I'm your girlfriend?"

"Like you're my girlfriend, for fuck’s sake." He shoved a hand through his hair. "Magnolia, tell me what's wrong."

"I don't know what you want from this," I said, unable to meet his eyes. I didn't want to see annoyance, or worse, pity.

"I don't want anything," he said.

Disappointment speared through me, followed by dull, numbing resignation. I'd hoped. I'd hoped so hard that I was wrong.

"That’s what I thought you'd say," I whispered, my voice stuck in my throat.

"That's not what I meant," he said, setting his mug on the counter with a sharp clank. "I want us to be together. That's what I want."

I stared at my bare feet on the hardwood floor. I could still end this whole conversation, shrug and say I was having a bad morning and everything was fine. Was that what I wanted?

With a sick, sinking feeling in my stomach, I knew it wasn't. I didn't want to go on like this, always feeling at a disadvantage, loving Vance and waiting for him to leave me.

Talking around the problem and waiting for him to make his feelings clear wasn't getting me anywhere. I either needed to act like an adult and have the guts to be honest with Vance or I was never going to know where I stood. I'd been protecting myself, but if I wanted the truth, I had to take a risk.

I was going to get burned. I knew it. But I had to know.