She dialed the taxi company, gave them Gavin’s address, then hung up.
She blew out a breath and walked around him to the coffeepot, refilled her cup, then leaned against the counter. “Fine, then. Say it, so I can go home. They said fifteen minutes for the taxi.”
He turned to face her, tried for a smile. She didn’t smile back, so he raked his hands through his hair. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
She had no answer for him.
He inhaled, let it out. “Okay. Look, I know I hurt you that day. When you told me you loved me, I wasn’t thinking straight. All I heard was you telling me what to do. Telling me I had to go back to work. I had already heard my dad telling me, my mom telling me. And then on the other side I heard from Mick saying how you were manipulating me, how all you were interested in was the money and career aspect, that you didn’t care about me.”
She let out a small snort at that one but didn’t dignify it with a response.
“I know, I know. I should have known better than to listen to my brother. Believe me, he’s got a lot to answer for in all this. But the blame lies on me. All of the blame is on me. And I’m sorry. You laid your heart on the line, and I stomped on it as if it didn’t mean anything. I guess it kinda scared me when you said you loved me.”
She waited for more from him. Nothing.
“That’s it? It kinda scared you?”
“Yeah. I knew you and I were headed for . . . something. At some point. I just don’t know that I was ready for . . . it.”
She arched a brow. “It?”
“Yeah. You know. Love.”
She rolled her eyes. “You act as if love is some kind of communicable disease, Gavin.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I’m messing this up. I just wasn’t prepared for you to tell me you loved me in the midst of browbeating me about going back to work. I mean you’re my agent and you were my girlfriend—or something. I didn’t really know what we were to each other. And then all of a sudden you’re telling me you love me in front of my brother and my dad, and I’m not sure about anything anymore. And I knew I felt something big for you, but I was messed up over my dad, too, and I—”
She didn’t know what she’d expected from him, but this wasn’t it. He was stumbling over his words, and maybe she’d expected a straight out apology and declaration of love.
Stupid. Once again, reality hadn’t met her expectations.
When had it ever?
The sound of a horn honking was a giant slice of relief. This whole thing was mortifying. Elizabeth wasn’t sure she could put up with one more second of Gavin’s painful explanations.
“Look, Gavin. Let me make this easy for you. I’m not your agent anymore, and I’m not your ‘whatever’ or your ‘something,’ either. You’re off the hook. I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of your brother and your father with my inept declaration of love. Trust me, it won’t happen again.”
He frowned. “That’s not what I’m trying to—”
She laid down the cup and grabbed her purse.
“We’re over. You want to know what we were to each other? Fuck buddies. A fling. Call it whatever you want. I mistook it for love. That’s on me, so don’t feel responsible. I’ll get over it. You should, too.”
“Elizabeth, wait.”
She wasn’t going to wait. She’d waited long enough. For five damn years she’d been in love with a man who was never going to be able to love her back. Not the way she needed him to.
Because he was incapable of loving her. Possibly incapable of loving anyone.
She walked out the door and slid into the taxi, keeping her gaze focused straight ahead. She wouldn’t look back.
Not anymore.
GAVIN SAT IN THE KITCHEN AND STARED AT ELIZABETH’S cup of coffee, now cold. He should toss it in the dishwasher, but he couldn’t seem to move.
How had he colossally fucked that up? Again. Twice now he’d hurt her.
Christ. He’d always been so good with women, could charm them, smooth talk them, convince them of anything he wanted.
And with the one woman he needed to be smooth with, he was like a tongue-tied teenager incapable of uttering a simple syllable, let alone get his point across. He hadn’t been able to tell her how he felt. He’d swung and missed.
What the hell was wrong with him? How hard was it to say he was sorry? How fucking difficult was it to tell a woman he loved her? It should have been so simple. He had the words in his head, and he couldn’t get them out. The most important conversation of his life and he’d struck out.
No, he hadn’t just struck out.
It was bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, and he was up to bat.
Facing down Elizabeth had been bigger than the World Series.
And he’d just lost the game. The biggest game of his life.
He’d lost the woman he loved.
Game over.
TWENTY-FOUR