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“I’m aware,” he interrupted, surprising me. He’d always let me say whatever I wanted to say before. “And you agreed to my original terms. Now you’re here telling me that, well, you want to change the terms.”
Was that what I was doing? After a moment’s thought, I could only wince because, yes, that’s exactly what I had been gearing up to do.
“And I’m telling you that isn’t happening,” he said, downing his entire drink.
The sting started to feel like a steadily deepening stabbing motion to the chest as I swallowed hard. “Why?”
There was another pause, and it felt like he was rallying himself to get the following statement out. “Because I don’t feel the same way for you. I never wanted to start anything serious with you, and I don’t intend to start either.”
A dullness settled over me, even as I felt a sense of outrage flash through me. “No, that’s not…”
“What? Not true?” he asked, wincing. “As you said yourself, I’ve never outright lied to you. Why would I start now?”
“Because…” I began and then trailed off, suddenly unsure what to say.
Deep in my gut, I would swear he was lying, but just what could I say that would make a difference? Most of it had been in the little things, the sort of behaviors, looks, and even expressions that couldn’t be simply jotted down on a list and presented as clear evidence.
“So, what was New Year?” I asked roughly, trying to swallow through the tightness of my throat. “That sure as shit didn’t feel like something someone would do just to have fun.”
Shane grimaced. “I did that because it was something I wanted to do, and I thought it would be an interesting experience for you.”
“And that’s it?” I asked with a scowl.
“That’s it,” he said, shrugging before pushing himself up to walk back into the kitchen to pour another glass. “Though I won’t lie, I did suspect you were…changing your mind about some things.”
“And you decided just to let that happen without saying something?” I demanded, snapping my head toward him.
“I could have, and perhaps I should have,” he said softly as he capped the bottle. “But at that moment, I thought it best to allow us both to enjoy the night. What would I have wrought by bringing up my suspicions? It was better in my mind that you were allowed simply to enjoy yourself.”
I scoffed. “And since then?”
“I’ve been,” he hesitated. After a few heartbeats, he took a drink, squared his shoulders, and faced me, “trying to think of a way to say it best. It’s never been my intention to hurt you.”
“Bit late for that,” I ground out.
“Yes,” he drew out, long enough I wanted to accuse him of stalling for time. “I can see that. I suppose I hadn’t realized just how far things had…progressed. Now I see bringing you pain was inevitable, and I should have said something, just as plainly as I’ve said it before.”
I worked his words through my head for several seconds before coming to a conclusion. “So, either you’re actually the biggest asshole I’ve ever known…”
“You’ve certainly never spared me your thoughts on that matter,” he said dryly.
“Or,” I emphasized, ignoring how deliberate his attempts to piss me off seemed, “you’re the biggest liar I’ve ever known.”
I didn’t miss the way his eyes widened ever so slightly. “Excuse me?”
I shook my head, pushing myself to my feet. “Maybe you’re just avoiding what was happening between us, the same way you’re avoiding being anywhere near your mother.”
The flash of anger across his face told me I’d hit at least one nail on the head. “Don’t lash out at me simply for the crime of being honest with you. I have and had no intention of stringing you along, and I’m doing the right thing.”
“It’s only lashing out if I’m doing it for spiteful reasons,” I told him. After a moment, I turned and smashed the glass he’d given me to the floor, shattering it and splashing liquor everywhere. “See, now that was spiteful and lashing out. Which still doesn’t change the fact that you’re absolutely terrified and trying to hide it from anyone who might see. You can talk shit about your mother all you want, but finally, having to come to terms with the fact she actually might die is absolutely terrifying to you.”
Shane stared at the puddle of liquor and glass shards on the floor, his jaw tightening. “You should leave. I think we’ve done more than enough talking tonight.”
“Fine,” I said, throwing up my hands and marching to the door to grab my coat and yank it on. “I thought you were a great many things, Shane, a jackass, an arrogant jerk, and a little too stuck on yourself. This is the first time I’ve ever thought you were a coward, though.”
“Get out,” he snapped, his expression hardening.
“No worries there,” I said, grabbing the handle to the door and yanking it open. “Some of us actually have to go into the house and face the reality of what’s happening. You can continue hiding out here or in some boardroom and pretend everything’s just fine.”
