She cut me off. “No fucking buts, Layla. Either you want him or you don’t. It’s as simple as that. And really, it surprises me that you haven’t confronted him and squeezed his balls till he came to his senses. So unlike you.”
I leant against the bar to get closer to her, almost like I was sharing a secret. “You know guys . . . some of them fuck you around with bullshit commitment hang-ups or other shit. Donovan’s different. I don’t know how to explain it, but he’s all fucking man . . . I don’t think he has it in him to fuck around with trivial shit like that. The stuff he’s dealing with seems bigger than that, and I feel like he just needs some space to sort through it.”
She listened to what I said and then moved closer to me. “Okay, I get that, but you should still call him. Let him know you’re here for him. Let him know he’s not alone if he doesn’t want to be.”
I stared at her.
Fuck.
I’ve wasted five days.
I jumped off the stool and pulled my phone out of my pocket. Eyeing Jess, I said, “Thanks, I needed that pep talk.”
She waved me away with her hands. “Go. Make the call and leave me to my labels. I think they might have moved while I had my back to them.”
I grinned at her. “I fucking love you, Jess.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know, you’d be lost without me, right? You just love me for my OCD that keeps your bar in top shape.”
As I dialled Donovan and placed the phone to my ear to wait for him to answer, I poked my tongue at her. “No, I love you for your wonderful, non-sarcastic outlook on life.”
She blew me a kiss and I turned to walk out to the back to have this conversation.
The phone rang.
And rang.
And rang.
And then it went to his voicemail.
I pressed end without leaving a message.
Disappointment slapped me in the face.
Maybe he needs more time.
Maybe he’s done.
The phone vibrated in my hand.
My heart danced to the sound of its ring.
Caller ID confirmed it.
Donovan.
I pressed it to my ear. “Hello.”
Silence.
“Donovan?”
His breathing filled the silence. Ragged. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I paused for a moment, unsure how to proceed. “Are you?”
Silence.
And then, “Don’t worry about me.”
His words sliced sorrow through me. “I do worry about you. And as much as you might not want me to, I won’t stop worrying about you. I’ve given you space but I’m done. I want you, Donovan. I can’t put it into words, but I feel you. And I think you feel me. I think you want this as much as I do. So I’m gonna keep pushing you because, fuck it, life’s too short not to push for what you want.” My heart pulsed, and the apprehension I felt pumped through my veins.
Silence.
And then, “Fuck.”
“I’m here for you,” I whispered.
“I can’t do this, Layla,” he rasped.
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
No.
I should have known better.
Anger took over the sadness careening through me. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
He hissed. “Don’t fucking push this. I’m not who you think I am, and I’ll never be who you need.”
“How the fuck do you know who I need you to be? You don’t know me well enough to make that call.”
“I know me. And no one fucking needs what I have to offer,” he said, his torment clear.
I wanted to shred his words and bandage his damaged soul with love. The self-hatred oozing out of his mouth calmed my anger and fed my desire to pull him into my embrace. “Donovan, I know what I want. I want you in all your fucked-up glory. I want the chance to get to know what that looks like and decide for myself if I can handle it. What I don’t want is you making that choice for me.”
I heard him suck in a breath and then expel it. “No.”
He ended the call, and I stared at my phone.
The first crack hurt like a bitch but I knew, as my heart completely splintered, it would kill like a motherfucker.
***
“Pass me the bottle, bitch.”
I squinted my eyes at Jess. “Don’t call me names, bish.” I sloshed more vodka into my glass before giving her the bottle. Without waiting for her to pour a drink, I raised my glass. “To men who are stubborn assholes and don’t know a good thing when it’s right in front of them. May they grow some balls and man the fuck up.” I tipped the glass to my lips and downed the whole lot in one go.
“Jesus, you need to slow down, boss. You’ve been at this for two hours now.”
She blurred into focus as I tried to look at her. I pushed my glass at her. “Make me some sex,” I slurred.
She raised her brows. “Wouldn’t it be nice just to be able to make sex like that?”
“Fuck you. You know what I mean.”
Shaking her head at me and muttering shit I couldn’t understand, she did as I had asked.
“Why are men such hard work?” I asked.
“It’s God’s way of driving women insane, babe. I’m sure it amuses him to no end.”