Ugly Love(57)

Corbin nods slowly, letting it sink in. “Do you love her?”
Miles and I look at each other. He looks back at Corbin as if he’s trying to decide which one of us he wants his answer to please.
I’m positive the slow shake of his head pleases neither of us.
“Are you at least planning to?” Corbin asks.
I continue to study Miles as if someone is asking him what the meaning of life is. I think I want his answer to Corbin’s question more than Corbin does.
Miles exhales and shakes his head again. “No,” he whispers.
No.
He’s not even planning to love me.
I knew his answer. I expected it. However, it still hurts like hell. The fact that he can’t even lie about it to save himself from disappointing Corbin proves that this isn’t some game he’s playing.
This is Miles. Miles isn’t capable of love. Not anymore, anyway.
Corbin grips the frame of his door and presses his forehead against his arm, inhaling a slow, steady breath. He looks back up at Miles with eyes like arrows aimed at a target. In all my life, I’ve never seen Corbin this angry.
“You just f*cked my sister?”
I’m waiting for Miles to fall backward from the impact of Corbin’s words, but he takes a step toward him instead. “Corbin, she’s a grown woman.”
Corbin takes a quick step toward Miles. “Get out.”
Miles glances back at me, and his eyes are apologetic and full of regret. I’m not sure if it’s for me or for Corbin, but he does what Corbin asks.
He leaves.
I’m still standing in my bedroom doorway, looking at Corbin like I could fly across this hall and deck him.
Corbin pierces me with a stare as firm as his stance. “You’re not a brother, Tate,” he says. “Don’t you dare tell me I’m not allowed to be pissed.” He steps back into his bedroom and slams his door.
I blink rapidly, fighting back tears of anger because of Corbin, tears of hurt because of Miles, and tears of shame because of the selfish choices I made for myself. I refuse to cry in front of either of them.
I walk to the kitchen and retrieve my shirt, then pull it over my head as I make my way toward the front door and across the hall. I knock on his door, and Miles opens it immediately. He looks behind me as if he expects Corbin to be standing there, then he steps aside and lets me in.
“He’ll get over it,” I say to him after he closes his door.
“I know,” he says quietly. “But it won’t be the same.” Miles walks to his living room and sits on his couch, so I follow him and sit down beside him. I don’t have any words of advice, because he’s right. Things more than likely won’t be the same between him and Corbin. I feel shitty that I’m the reason for that.
Miles sighs as he pulls my hand to his lap. He threads his fingers through mine. “Tate,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
I look at him, and his eyes come up and meet mine. “For what?”
I don’t know why I’m pretending not to know what he’s talking about. I know exactly what he’s talking about.
“When Corbin asked if I planned on loving you,” he says. “I’m sorry I couldn’t say yes. I just didn’t want to lie to either of you.”
I shake my head. “You’ve been nothing but honest about what you want from me, Miles. I can’t be mad at you for that.”
He inhales a deep breath as he stands and begins pacing the living room. I remain on the couch and watch him as he works to gather his thoughts. He eventually pauses and locks his hands behind his head. “I had no right to question you about that guy, either. I don’t allow you to question me or my life, so I have no right to question yours.”
Not about to argue with that logic.
“I just don’t know how to deal with this thing between us.” He steps closer to me, and I stand up. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and holds me against his chest. “I don’t know an easy or even polite way to say this, but what I said to Corbin is the truth. I’ll never love anyone again. It’s not worth it to me. But I’m being unfair to you. I know I’m messing with your head, and I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry for that. I just like being with you, but every time I’m with you, I’m scared you’re seeing it for more than it really is.”
I know I should have some sort of reaction to everything he just said, but I’m still processing his words. Every single one of his admissions should be a red flag, since they were all also coupled with the hard truth that he doesn’t plan on loving me or having a relationship with me, but the red flag doesn’t rise.
The green one does.
“Is it me specifically you don’t want to love, or is it love in general you don’t want to experience?”
He pulls me away from his chest so he can look at me while he answers my question. “It’s love in general I don’t want, Tate. Ever. It’s you specifically that I just . . . want.”
I fall in and out and back in love with that answer.
I’m so screwed up. Everything he says should send me running, but instead, it makes me want to wrap my arms around him and give him whatever it is he’s willing to take from me. I’m lying to him, and I’m lying to myself, and I’m not doing either of us any good, but I can’t stop the words that come out of my mouth.
“I can handle this as long as it stays simple,” I tell him. “When you pull the shit you pulled a few weeks ago by walking away and slamming your door? That’s not keeping it simple, Miles. Things like that make it complicated.”