Where We Belong (A Touch of Fate #1)(55)

"No." I let my lids droop over my eyes and cast my gaze down. "Everything is not okay." I don't want to him to see how he affects me. I showed him my hand five years ago and he walked away. I showed him again last night what I was willing to give him and he rejected me. I'm done handing him my heart, just to have him throw it right back in my face. I take a deep breath and search for the resolve that I lost the night I saw him again for the first time...here at this very club.

"We can't be friends, Tyson." There. I said it. It's out there. And now I feel even worse.

"What? Why not?" he asks. I look at him, surprised to see that he appears angry. I'm not going to lie, I was hoping he'd look a little sad.

"Why? Why? Are you a damn idiot? Why can't I be your friend?" I yell incredulously, throwing my hands in the air, then letting them fall back to my side. "Because…" I swallow back the lump in my throat and push forward. "Because you hurt me, Tyson. You know what?" I shake my head swiftly. "Hurt isn't even a good word for it. You f*cking wounded me." Jesus Christ, these f*cking tear ducts are getting on my nerves. My eyes have met their threshold, but I wipe them before any tears are able to fall.

"I know I did, Harley!" Tyson yells back, pounding his fist into his chest. "I know I f*cking hurt you. And it f*cking killed me, I told you that! I thought we were past this. I thought you forgave me and we were moving forward." His hands are fisted at his side and his shoulders are tense, but some of the anger has drained from his face. Now he just looks lost, and maybe confused.

I hate that we’ve come to this point. We shouldn't be fighting—this just isn't us. I soften my voice, trying to diffuse the situation. "We were, and I thought I could move past it. But you've given me so many mixed signals this past week that I don't know whether I'm coming or going."

"I gave you mixed signals? What about y—"

"I'm not done talking," I snap. He rubs his hands over his face in frustration but lets me continue. "Maybe I was the stupid one. Maybe I misread everything. But you did—you gave me mixed signals. You flirted with me. You found small ways to be close to me and touch me. You were persistent in wanting us to spend time together. And then you pulled away from me and started acting funny. I thought it was me. I thought maybe I was giving you mixed signals, so I wanted to make it clear."

Goddamnit. Remind me not to have these conversations again when I've been drinking. I stop trying to prevent the tears from falling. What's the use? My therapist told me once that I need to let things go, that it's not healthy to hold it all in. So this is me…letting things go. Tyson's body instantly reacts at the sight of my tears and he reaches forward, gripping my arms gently.

"Harley…"

I twist my arms out of his grasp and his eyes flash with pain. I'm hurting him. Ironic, huh?

I'm surprised how steady I'm able to keep my voice when I state, "I tried to kiss you last night, Tyson." This obviously hits a note with the silent trio standing off to the side, because the three of them speak at the same time.

"What?" Levi gasps, eyebrows raised.

"Yup," Quinn responds without taking her eyes off of us.

And I swear I hear Avery murmur, "Jackass."

Tyson's face twists in anguish and his chocolate eyes flash with regret. He reaches his hand out but drops it immediately when I shift away from him. "Harley, I made a mistake. I'm sorry. I wasn't rejecting you. God, I would never rejec—"

"And then," I interrupt, not wanting to rehash the embarrassment I felt last night, "I show up tonight and see you with her." I wave my hand at Avery. "She had her arm around you and the way she was looking at you…my God, I'd be an idiot not to notice—"

"Actually, that's why I came in here to talk to you,” Avery interjects softly. Frankly, I don't care. I don't want to hear what she has to say…this is between Tyson and me. I continue talking, not even acknowledging her and not caring that I’m being rude either.

"At first, I was bothered because you got called into work and had to cancel our dinner. But then when I saw that you came here with her instead, and the way you looked at her…" I take a deep breath, willing myself to talk through the tears. "You looked happy, Tyson. You were smiling and I realized that it's been a really long time since I've seen you smile like that.” My throat is burning and scratchy and I want nothing more than to run out of here and save face, but this is good for me—I need to get this out.

Tyson is watching me. His face is guarded, but his eyes are hard. I hate that I can't tell what he's thinking or feeling, but I have to finish this. "So I'm done. I can't be your friend. It's too hard," I sob, "I can't be your friend when I'm still completely in lo—"

"Enough!" he yells, stepping into my space. I stumble back, bumping into the sink. "Enough. Don't make this my fault, Harley. Don't play the f*ckin' martyr, because it isn't attractive on you."

"What?" I ask, feeling like he just slapped me in the face. "What the f*ck are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Harley. You want to know why I pulled away from you? You want to hear me say it?" His voice starts to shake and he twists away from me, running his hand across the back of his neck. "Because I was f*cking jealous, okay? I was mad at myself that I had the chance to be with you and I blew it, and someone else stepped up and I was f*cking jealous."