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“And what? You jumped in the next one and told the driver, ‘follow that cab?’” I laugh, although there isn’t a single funny thing about this. “You’re acting crazy.”
“He can’t have you.”
I throw my hands up, exasperated. “Yes, he can. Anyone can if I say so.”
“No. They can’t. You don’t understand, Spitfire. They fucking can’t.”
My stomach twists at the rough edge to his voice. Declan won’t budge on this, and he’s being so ridiculous I can hardly believe we’re standing here, having this fight.
What he says next, though, hits me like a wrecking ball.
“No one else can have you when I want you this badly.”
The words almost seem to surprise Declan as they pour from his lips, but they rip me wide open.
“You had me!” I yell at him, angry tears blurring my vision. “You had me, Declan! And I wanted you too. So badly. I wanted more, but you let me go. You ended things. So now you have to let me go.”
* * *
Declan
I look down at the furious, beautiful, weeping woman I can’t seem to shake, and out of the million things at war inside me over the next move to make or not make, the only thing I can think of to do is reach down and brush a tear from streaking its way down her cheek.
I can’t stand to see Sophie cry.
But I meant it when I said that all of this—every single incredible step and misstep—was a fucking mistake.
I’m fucked up. And I’m fucking her up. All of this. Fucked up.
I’m accustomed to control, but that flew out the window a long time ago. My emotions are all over the place. I can’t say that I like it.
But what I like much, much less is the idea of just letting Sophie go back to that date in there with someone who shouldn’t even be breathing the same air as her. She’s so far out of his league that he’s crazy attempting a second date.
It makes my chest tight. Makes me see red that anyone else would so much as think that they deserve to be with her.
So I chase another tear away with my thumb, then take her by the chin and tilt her face up to me so she has no choice but to look me in the eyes.
“I don’t want to let you go. I can’t,” I say, my voice rough and low. “I want you too. Need you. Crave you.”
“It can’t just be about sex, Declan,” she says, her eyes filling with tears again. “That doesn’t work.”
“I want more than just sex,” I tell her hoarsely. “I—fuck. I don’t know how to do this. A real relationship. But I’ll try. For you. Because I can’t lose you.”
After all her righteous fury, I’ve finally said something to shock her speechless. Her tears have magnified the color of her eyes, and I see what I’ve always somehow known. They’re not green. They’re emerald. They’re twin jewels. Precious, just like her.
She blinks up at me, an adorable wrinkle right between her eyebrows marring her otherwise flawless skin.
Then she sighs. Sags a little so that I quickly wrap my arms around her to hold her up.
“Shit,” she whispers, melting into me. Defeat and acceptance all at once.
I don’t give a fuck. I’ll take it. Anything.
“You make it so hard to hate you, you know,” she mutters, her hands resting against my chest. “And I really wanted to hate you.”
A grin tugs at my lips, even though I can barely breathe. “Does that mean you’re going to let me take you home with me right now?”
“If you’re taking me as your girlfriend—if we’re really doing this—then yes.”
