Connected (Connections, #1)(30)

“That’s rich,” he says almost with a laugh, his harsh tone returning. He clenches his fists as he leans his head back on the cab seat.

I stare past him looking out the window to avoid his gaze. We are sitting still in the traffic. How appropriate. I don’t want to look at him. I’m trying not to cry. I’m confused and not sure what to think. After all the flirting, the attraction, and now the bitterness; his emotions seem to ping-pong faster than I can keep track of and I know I have to get out of this game.

With sudden clarity, I turn my entire body to face him. Doing this with a dress on isn’t easy. I brace my hand on the seat in front of me so the slick leather bottom of my skirt doesn’t slide across the bench and I fully cross my legs. The cab starts moving again; horns are blowing and bright colored lights are flashing everywhere.

“River, I don’t want to play games. I don’t know what is going on here, but let’s just go back to my hotel, let me get my stuff, finish the interview, and then we can say our goodbyes.” I let him know this in as flat a tone as I can, knowing this is not what I want but what needs to happen.

Ignoring my request to change our destination he turns his entire body toward me. With his elbow up on the ledge of the back window and his knee slightly bouncing he says, “Dahlia, I’m not playing any games here. I’m just trying to figure things out. So let’s start with the night we met, okay?”

I nod but think this isn’t going to go well at all.

Sitting up and in a monotone, but rather harsh voice he asks, “Why did you leave the bar that night with another guy?”

“What are you talking about?”

Staring at me he says, “Dahlia, come on, just tell me the truth.”

“I didn’t leave with any guy. I left with my girlfriend Aerie. So what are you talking about?”

Running his fingers through his hair, he hisses his words between his teeth. “After my gig you were gone. Here I thought we had some intense connection. Then I had to go back on stage and you said you’d wait for me, but you didn’t. You just left. Later that night I had to stop by my brother’s frat house to look for my sister who left without us and I saw you there. You were standing with some guy near the stairs and he was sucking on your neck.”

He says the last part with disgust in his voice and I start to feel a little queasy. Never did I think my two worlds would collide like this. With my most apologetic tone and my eyes pleading forgiveness for my omission I say, “River, that wasn’t just some guy that was my boyfriend and I was afraid of what might happen between you and me, that’s why I left when I did.”

“That’s f*cking fantastic news to hear now. That wasn’t something you thought you should share then?”

My eyes start tearing up as I say, “It’s not like that, you don’t understand.”

He curls his lips into a sneer as the cab starts inching its way to nowhere. While gritting his teeth and looking at the floor he says, “Really, because I think I understand pretty well. You were out for fun and looking to have a good time.”

Raising his gaze to meet mine he continues with, “Do you have a boyfriend now?”

I flush, swallowing back my tears. I’m a little pissed myself now at his bitter reaction, so in a slightly clipped tone I answer, “No, Ben was my boyfriend but he died almost two years ago, and actually he was my fiancé.”

His eyes flash to mine and I see compassion and maybe a little bit of pain in them. He studies my face like he’s trying to bring back the last five years but doesn’t know how. “Is he the same guy? The boyfriend from the party and your fiancé?”

Trying to wash away my somber mood, I say, “Yes, Ben was my boyfriend since we were like five. Well not really but it seemed like it. We actually knew each other since we were five.”

“Hmmm . . .” is all River says at first. Then after a few beats he looks at me. His eyes are a little softer, and he seems more understanding. And just like that, the charming man that seems to captivate me is back. “That explains a lot. Why . . .?” He doesn’t get to finish his question as the cab driver announces our arrival at the restaurant.

I put my hand on his knee. I’m a little shaken by our exchange but for some reason drawn even closer to him. I don’t know if we can recover from this and honestly I’m afraid to go too much further in case we can’t. “River, let’s just end this here.”

Taking my hand from his knee he lifts it to his mouth and lightly kisses it in the same way he has done before. My goosebumps return and I have to swallow a few times to get the huge lump out of my throat. Still holding onto my fingers, our hands now resting on his leg, he lifts my chin with his other hand and rubs his thumb over my lips. “Dahlia, stay and have dinner with me? You owe me that much for standing me up that night. Then let’s see what happens.” He says this very softly, almost like a whisper as he continues to run his thumb back and forth over my bottom lip. The cab driver gets out of the cab and opens my door. It’s a gesture I’m sure to move us along.

As resolutely as I can, I say, “Okay fine, dinner and then the interview.” But I know that’s not all I meant. It’s time to remove our masks to see if there is really something more between us, but in order to do this I have to get my emotions under control. This is easier said than done around River Wilde, especially because, as I get out of the cab, I can still feel the searing left behind on my lips from his touch.