Anyone But Rich (Anyone But..., #1)(33)

Rich’s forehead was scrunched together in concentration. His hand still gripped the bottle of liquor, but his knuckles were white, and I could see the tendons in his arm straining. “No.” His voice was quiet, reserved. He shook his head again. “I never imagined what I did would hurt you so badly, but I meant to hurt you. I can’t pretend I’m innocent, and I’m so fucking sorry for that. But sorry is just a word, and it’s not enough.”

He set the bottle down with a sudden, startling clank. He shook his arms around and rolled his head from side to side like a boxer about to step into the ring. “I think there’s only one way to solve this. I need you to punch me as hard as you can. Right in the face.”

I laughed. “What? No. I’m not going to punch you. Besides, it’s not like that would even make me feel better.”

“Punch me,” he said. He took another long pull from one of the bottles and then shook off the burn with a groan. “Come on. Do it.”

“You’re serious?”

“Punch me in the face, or I’m going to kick you out and never speak to you again. I won’t forgive you if you don’t do it.”

My eyebrows drew together. “Rich. Come on. This is ridiculous.”

He tapped his jaw. “Right here. Just do it.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“Then I’m done talking to you.”

I didn’t plan on actually doing it, but before I knew what was happening, my fist was balled up and flying toward his face. It felt like I watched everything happen in slow motion, from my fist arcing through the air to Rich’s widening, surprised eyes.

I connected with his eye, even though I’d been aiming for his jaw. He flinched back and then stared at me in openmouthed disbelief. “Are you crazy?” he asked.

“What?” I still had both my fists up like I was getting ready for nine rounds. I let them fall, feeling very, very silly. “You told me—”

“I was fucking with you. Jesus.” He laughed, then touched his eye and winced. “And who the hell punches somebody in the eye?”

“I was aiming for you there,” I said, putting my fingertips toward his jaw, but he flinched back and laughed again.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just get gun shy around people who punch me in the eye without warning.”

I crossed my arms and glared at him, but I couldn’t help smiling a little. “Really? You practically demanding that I punch you wasn’t warning enough?”

“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d have the balls to do it.”

“Who says you need balls to do something brave?” I asked. “Why do testicles get so much credit? What does a shriveled-up, hairy bag have to do with conquering your fears? It’d make just about as much sense as saying, Damn, that took boobs.”

Rich thought about that. “First of all, my balls are not shriveled. And manscaping should be an important part of every guy’s routine. I’m not sure what kind of balls you’ve been playing with, but—”

“None,” I said quickly.

His eyebrow shot up. “So you’re either antiballs or a virgin? Is that what you’re telling me?”

I grabbed the drink and took another sip, but I couldn’t manage to peel my eyes from his. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“Fine. Keep your secrets. If I press you too hard for them, you’ll probably hit me again.”

“Stop.” I laughed. “I’m not violent. You’re the one who begged me to do it.”

He smiled. “If I knew begging was so effective with you, I would’ve tried it a long time ago.”

“Oh? And what would you have begged for?”

He leaned closer. “A few minutes ago, it would’ve been forgiveness. Now I don’t want your forgiveness. I don’t think I deserve it. I just want to make it up to you.”

I shook my head. “No. Look . . . what you did sucked. But honestly? I think I only agreed to date Nick out of some messed-up desire to get you back. I may not have realized it at the time, but I think that’s what it was.”

“Get me back? I hardly thought you noticed me.”

I laughed. “You’re serious? I was one step away from building a shrine to you in my closet. I hated that I was obsessed with you.”

“Damn. Some womanizer I am. I spent most of high school thinking you thought you were too good for me. When I heard you were dating Nick, I lost it. I felt like shit after I went to Coach, but it was all like a blur.”

I took another sip of the drink he’d made me. I noticed with a little shock of surprise that I was draining the last bit of liquid in the glass. When had I even taken the second sip, let alone the dozens that must’ve followed? “How do I know you’re not just pretending you had a crush on me back then? Maybe this is a ploy to get me to forgive you. I mean, seriously, you had the entire town in the palm of your hand. Why would I believe you so much as noticed me?”

“I can think of one way to convince you I’m not full of shit.”

“Oh? I’d love to see that.”

I realized he’d crossed to my side of the counter without my noticing. I also realized he was standing dangerously close. So close I could’ve counted each of his thick eyelashes. Close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. I breathed in, and his scent overwhelmed me. It didn’t smell like cologne or soap. It was his smell, and it was soft but absolutely intoxicating.