The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(79)

“What then?”

He turned to face her. “I’m having a hard time piecing together exactly why you’ve been so mad at me.”

She looked at him in surprise. “I’m not,” she said. “I’m actually trying to remember why I said we weren’t going to sleep together anymore.”

His eyes darkened. “Hold that thought. Talk first. Can we start with Vegas?”

She nodded reluctantly.

His serious gaze held hers. “You left me there. You got on a plane and vanished. And please don’t say it was because I said it was a mistake. That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it. You’re not shy, Maze. If that was all that tripped you up, you’d have said something to me right then. In fact, you would’ve gotten right in my face about it, and then I’d have said you misunderstood and explained myself, and we’d be fine.”

Her heart was pounding in her ears. “This isn’t something that can be fixed with a conversation, Walker.”

“No shit. It’s because you’re scared and won’t admit it.”

She felt her spine snap ramrod straight. “No, you don’t get to turn this on me. You made it clear that I was a problem that had to be handled, and I felt . . . stupid.” And humiliated and heartbroken. Fix that with a damn conversation, she thought bitterly.

But Walker’s face softened. “It wasn’t like that, Maze. You weren’t the problem, I was. I was going to be shipping out. I couldn’t—”

“I understood that part. I was proud of you.” She felt choked up. “So proud. But . . .” Her throat decided to close too tight to finish that sentence how she wanted, which was, When you didn’t even try to come after me, I knew the truth—you didn’t love me enough to make it work . . .

But she wouldn’t beg for love, not ever again.

God, they were both so screwed up.

He studied her face and then closed his eyes, as if looking at her pain was too much for him to take. “That morning when I woke up with you, I felt . . . sheer joy.” He shook his head. “I’d never experienced anything like it. Do you know how many people have walked away from me, Maze?”

She felt her heart squeeze.

“Just about everyone,” he said. “But then you hitched yourself to me and promised forever, and . . .” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “We were so far gone that night. When you said you didn’t even remember it . . .” He grimaced. “That’s when I realized that I’d taken advantage of you. I hated myself for that.”

Stunned, she shook her head. Because she remembered so much more than he thought. “Maybe I took advantage of you,” she whispered.

He gave a head shake. “That’s not how it works.”

“You mean because you have the penis, therefore you get to decide what I think?”

His eyes flashed. “You know damn well that’s not what I’m saying. You’ve got the sharpest mind of anyone I know. I was trying to make it easy on you. We made a mistake rushing things. We were too young. I knew we’d get there someday, but I also knew I was committing to a job that would take me away for long months at a time. The last thing I wanted was for you to be married to someone who wasn’t even home. You’ve had enough family members disappearing on you.”

“What I’m hearing is what I’ve always known,” she said. “You regretted what we did.”

“No.” He stopped. “Okay, so I regret Elvis. But I could never regret anything with you.”

She stared at him, a little surprised by how genuine he sounded. And more than that, how the words made her feel. A minute ago she’d been enjoying the view of him in nothing but those boxers, and maybe she’d also been thinking what could another hour in bed with him possibly hurt?

And she still felt all that, but now she also felt . . . more.

He didn’t regret her. She hadn’t been a mistake.

She thought about what Heather had said last night. From Walker’s perspective, she’d walked out on him. End of story. He hadn’t needed to know why; all he needed to know was that he hadn’t been wanted.

Again.

She was the one who’d made a mistake, a big one. “You would’ve grown to resent being tied to me so early,” she said.

“No. You don’t get to tell me how I feel about you. Do you remember any of the conversation we had that night?”

Even now she could conjure up flashes of them together in bed, teetering on the edge of no return. Did she remember any of it? She remembered all of it. The warmth of his body on hers. The pull of his fingers in her hair. The taste of hunger and desire on his lips . . . “I remember you giving Elvis the don’t make me kick your ass look.”

“Because at the ceremony, he kissed you way too enthusiastically.”

She had to smile. “He backed right off when you threatened to rearrange his doodles.”

He grinned. “His doodles?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, tell me.”

She pointed at him. “You’re just trying to get me to talk dirty.”

“Yes, please.” He laughed but sobered quickly. “I remember all of it, Maze.” He closed his eyes. “But I hate that you don’t.”