Page 40 of Mage Massacres

I sighed, leaning back against the door to her suite.

“I’m sorry. I don’t say that lightly. I knew I was lying, but I didn’t have ill intentions behind it. I was hoping that he would man up and talk to you. I didn’t want to be in his business, but I didn’t intend to hurt you either.”

“I know,” she responded.

“I don’t know how to rectify my mistakes.”

She propped herself against the edge of her desk, seeming more comfortable in her own space. I felt the urge to thank the mage and his brother for spelling the rooms to open into our suites back in Nashville.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she said. “I’m not used to being in this position. I don’t usually give people enough trust to have it broken. Being upset with someone isn’t a normal feeling for me. Being upset with you is harder to handle than I thought it would be. You’re the only one I imagined never being mad at. You make it too hard to stay angry.”

“I was hoping that was the case.” I grinned before becoming serious again.

“Really, though. I didn’t intend to get caught up in Palmer’s bullshit. I just overheard his thoughts. I’m so used to the guys’ thoughts being background sound in my mind that I don’t think about the shit I know or don’t until I hear something that makes me want to step in.”

Sloane shrugged, the indifference still evident in the tense set of her shoulders.

“I understand why you didn’t say anything. I would never ask you to pick between any of us. But some things are important, and they test your character in the worst kind of way. Between having Palmer be mad at you and me maybe not knowing until he told me… I can’t say that you made the right or wrong decision. Both options would have fractured someone’s trust.”

“I chose wrong.”

She shook her head. “You stayed loyal to who you’ve known the longest.”

“I chose wrong,” I repeated slowly. “I should have stopped him, should have told you. Palmer has been my friend for years, but I love you. And as Vaughn so kindly pointed out to me, I haven’t been acting like it. I don’t care if the guys are mad at me. They’ll get over it. I care that you’re mad at me, upset with me.”

“I’ll get over it too.”

Those five words hit me like a bullet through my chest. York wasn’t exaggerating about the damage he’d done.

I shook my head back at her. “I don’t want you to just get over it. I want you to tell me when I’m being an idiot, Trouble.”

I counted the steps it took me to reach her. Nine. I didn’t want that much space between us. Physically, it was fine. But mentally? Emotionally? No. I wasn’t okay with that.

“This relationship thing is new to me, and I’m sure I’ll fuck up a few more times before I get it right. Just tell me when I do. I don’t like how quiet you’ve been. I don’t like that you’ve been here and not told anyone how much it bothers you to be in your mother’s house.

“I really don’t like that you’re still so upset with me that you didn’t cringe or scoff at me saying I love you. You didn’t even acknowledge it, just skipped right over it like you didn’t hear me.”

“I heard you,” she whispered. “Would you like me to scoff now, or has the moment passed?”

I shrugged, rolling my lips in to keep from smiling at her. “Some acknowledgment is better than none.”

She closed her eyes for a second and then glanced at me. “You think you love me. You don’t know for sure. And until you’re positive, I don’t want to play with those emotions.”

“If my heart beat at all, it would race for you.”

“Novak,” she warned.

“Deny it all you want.” I tapped her temple. “I hear the things you say, the things you think… The things you won’t admit to yourself. I hear you. You shouldn’t hide those thoughts. You’re doing it right now, like I won’t be able to dig through all the distractions or read between the lines.”

“It freaks me out when you’re this intense,” she mumbled, looking away.

“Mmm-hmm,” I agreed. “You don’t like that I can see through all the little lies you tell yourself.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, and I smirked. “You’re not a bad person. You’re allowed to feel all the emotions you keep bottled up. You don’t have to be some put-together CEO all the time, though I do love the pencil skirts.”

She leaned back, unable to take a step away from me.

“I need that control over myself. The emotions are killing me.”