Reckless Abandon(63)

I fold my arms across my chest, my foot resumes tapping, an act he finds amusing as the corner of his mouth curls up ever so slightly and than vanishes instantly.

“Who’s the guy?” He asks with a nod of his head toward the door. He’s referring to Mattie.

“None of your business.”

His square jaw protrudes with the clench of his jowls. I look away from him, gathering my bearings. I should let him think Mattie is someone to me. Make him suffer thinking I’m with someone else.

Who am I kidding? He doesn’t care.

I turn my head back to Asher, who is smoldering. It’s as if he thinks this is some kind of game.

A game I have no intention of playing.

“He’s my neighbor,” I say, clipping my words through my teeth. “And what does it matter to you? You already had me. Conquest accomplished. Wasn’t that the goal?” My throat burns as the words come out. I intended to say them to hurt him. Instead, they’re killing me.

His eyes are ablaze with indignation. I don’t think this is what he came here for but this is certainly where it’s going. “What exactly do you think my goal was?”

I bite back any emotion attempting to rise from me as I continue. I managed three weeks of decorum around him. I managed to be in the same building and not say a word when the hurt was sitting on my chest like a lead weight.

Turns out I can’t fight it anymore.

“Find a girl, trick her into pretending you’re some brooding boathand who needs saving, f*ck her, and leave. Wasn’t that the goal . . . Alexander?”

Asher pushes off the island and runs his hand along the back of his neck. He paces a few steps and then turns back to me. His chest rises and falls with deep, hard breaths.

“I never once lied to you. I tell it like it is, I do what I want but I never manipulate the truth.” He moves toward me, severe and snappish. “Don’t act so innocent. You have no idea what I have been though. I had no idea what your intentions—”

“My intentions?” I cut him off. This time, it’s my turn to push away from the island. “What exactly do you think I was doing in Italy? Tell me!” Outrage and resentment rise in my chest.

Asher looks back at me, his breath heavy, his words controlled. “You knew exactly what you were doing.” His voice is filled with accusation but his eyes—his eyes are filled with something else.

I turn away from him for fear if I look at him for one more second I’ll fall down the rabbit hole. I fought too hard to be brought back down. I rose from the bed. I lifted the fork to my mouth. I got on a plane and came here to make a new start for my new life.

I am the diamond. I cannot be broken.

“Why are you doing this?” I turn back to him, lifting my arms in exasperation. “You know everything about me. You see this.” I hold up my hand revealing the scar that brandishes my skin. “This is me. On January second, my boyfriend, who I thought I loved, broke up with me. He tore my heart apart. So my brother—my sweet, funny, wonderful brother—took me out. I asked him—no, I begged him to drive. I pleaded with him to take the pain away with the rush of an engine and that cost him his life. And this”—I hold up my hand higher, closer to his face—“this is all I have left!”

I pull my arms away and clench the tarnished skin in my other hand. “But you know this. You know this because you looked me up. No one as untrusting as you would have gone near me without knowing everything. You know I lived to play the violin. You know what I was doing in Capri. And you know every single word I said to you on that island was true.”

“Emma—”

“Don’t.” I shake my head. “Don’t say anything except the one thing I need you to say.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say it!”

“Say what?”

My heart squeezes tight as I march toward him. “That you were wrong! I want you to—”

“I was wrong!” He speaks so loudly the room vibrates. “I was wrong. I knew I was wrong the next day.”

I let out a loud breath, expelling the weight that was sitting in my ribs. My heart continues to race and now my mind is playing catch-up.

Did he just—?

Is he admitting that he—?

“Then why didn’t you come back for me?”

“I don’t know!” Asher spins around. His back widens as his arms rise and his hands run through his hair, pulling it at the ends. “I don’t know. I just . . . That night when security called, saying Adam Reingold was looking into me, researching me—I was furious. We pulled up anchor and got out of there. I wanted, needed to believe you were like everyone else.”

“I don’t want your money if that’s what you’re accusing me of.” I practically spit the words at him. “I don’t want anything from you. I liked you when I thought you had nothing.”

My words force him to turn around and face me. The look on his face is one of defeat and disappointment. “I know.”

His sullen posture and red-rimmed eyes take the bitterness away. He’s hurting too. “I don’t understand. When you first saw me at the school you were so mad. You have been so mad.”

With my words, Asher is quickly moving toward me. When he reaches me, he places both hands gently on my arms. “I am mad. Hell, I’m f*cking furious. I don’t want you here. And, no, it’s not because I don’t want you. I have been fighting the urge to come find you. To go to you and apologize. I came close.”