That was new.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” he said.
I looked back at him.
“What?”
“At the table.” His jaw moved. “What I said.”
I waited.
He seemed to be fighting every word before it left his mouth, as if saying something kind required him to drag it over broken glass first.
“You asked a question,” he said. “I was rude.”
Rude was such a small word for how small he had made me feel.
“It’s fine.”
His eyes sharpened. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Say it’s fine when it isn’t.”
I looked at him for a long moment. He had no right to sound irritated by the very habit he had helped create.
“It is fine,” I said, gentler than I felt. “I understand now.”
“Understand what?”
My fingers tightened around my purse. I should have stopped. I knew I should have. But the hurt had been sitting in my chest since he said it. I was drunk. Don’t make it into something it wasn’t. The words had been turning over inside me cutting little new places each time.
“I understand the kiss was a mistake,” I said.
“What?”
My throat tightened, but I made myself keep going because if I did not say it now, I would carry it home and let it become another thing I blamed myself for wanting.
“You were drunk.” I forced a tiny smile because my face did that when I was trying not to cry. “You said so. I shouldn’t have made it bigger than it was.”
His eyes darkened. “Sienna.”
“It’s okay. Really. I know you probably kiss women all the time.”
His face changed.
I had never seen that expression on Jamison before. Shock, maybe. Then something worse because it looked almost like hurt, and I did not know what to do with Jamison Crow hurt by something I said.
“I don’t,” he said.
I looked down.
“You don’t have to explain.”
“Yes, I fucking do.”
The sharpness made my shoulders tighten.