“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it was so hard for you having everyone whisper behind your back about how you just needed to get it out of your system before settling down with some guy like Ford McBride. I’m sure it must have been torture for you to face your parents’ disapproval when it came to your choice in boyfriend, and yet still get that fancy convertible when you turned sixteen and spend two weeks every winter in Vail and four weeks in the Hamptons every summer. I’m sure that was so hard for you, Clara. All I had to deal with for dating outside of my league was having the sheriff pull me over anytime we passed each other on the road, or getting cut from the damn football team every single year because the other guys didn’t want me on it and their daddies had plenty of sway in the community. Then when we did finally break up, I couldn’t find a girl to date me in this county or the next one over. The ones who were supposedly in my league didn’t want me because they took me being with you as intentionally shunning them, and the girls in your supposed league looked at me as used goods.”
When he finished, I stood in front of him, arms crossed and insides fuming, but I stayed quiet. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to spew right back at him, I needed to figure out what I wanted to argue with first.
“Are you done?” I said, raising my brow.
“You asked me to talk.” He held out his arms. “I’m talking.”
“I asked you to talk about what you were feeling.” I lifted my brow higher. “Not what you’ve imagined up in that depraved head of yours”
“So what do you want to hear? What do you want me to tell you? I remember that game. I’m sure I can settle back into that role easily enough.” He stepped closer, coming within arm’s reach.
I cinched my arms tighter around myself to keep from slapping him, because my God, if he ever deserved it, now was the time. I shook my head furiously. “If you told me what you thought I wanted to hear, that’s on you. Not me. All I ever wanted was to know you, the real you. I knew enough about people plucking at my strings and wanting me to act this way and say that and do this. I never wanted you to feel that way with me.”
“No, you just wanted me to say and do and act how you wanted me to, and say it was who I really was and what I really wanted.”
I marched closer, my eyes narrowing. “You go ahead and keep on believing whatever it is you think you know. That won’t change how I really felt about you and why I wanted to be close to you. Asshole,” I tacked on when he gave a huff of dissent. “And just for your information, when I reached for your hand, it was because I damn well wanted to hold it. And when I lifted up onto my tiptoes to kiss you, it was because I damn well wanted to kiss you. And since I’m on a roll when it comes to setting you straight of all your preconceived—totally erroneous, by the way—notions, when I made you that offer a few nights ago, it had nothing to do with wanting to piss off my family. If that had been my goal, I would have made sure we had a couple of rings settled on our left hands before marching through those front doors.”
Boone made another face, one that implied he didn’t believe a word I’d just said. “Then why don’t you clear up why you did make me that offer? I’m still a little sketchy on that.”
Of all the things I’d just fired at him, I hadn’t expected that would be the part he’d cling to. The one he’d ask for clarification on. It seemed like the most harmless of the list, but I knew better, and from the look on his face, so did he.
“I told you already,” I said, angling myself so I wasn’t square in front of him. “You were the only one in that sorry excuse for a bar I could get through my parents’ front door without them calling the cops.” When Boone cocked a brow, I added, “Or at least the only one who wouldn’t have warranted an immediate call to the psychiatrist in charge of committing new patients that night.” His other brow lifted. I sighed and rubbed my temples. “My options were limited. At least I knew you and guessed I could trust you not to stab me in the middle of the night before running off with my parents’ crystal and silverware.”
He was staring at me. I could feel it, but I wouldn’t let myself meet his stare.
“That’s a pretty speech, Clara, but dress it up all you want. It won’t change the fact it’s a lie.”
“Are you implying that I’m lying?”
“Not implying, more stating a fact, and yeah, I am.”
“Well, you’ve accused me of just about everything else tonight, so why not?” I backed up toward the Chrysler. If this was how he wanted to treat me when all I’d done was try to help him tonight, then fine, he could have his alone time.
“You could have picked anyone to ask to be your date to your sister’s wedding, forget the ten grand. Why did you pick me?” His voice was closer but softer.
The sudden change in tone took me by surprise. “I’d flown into the airport a whole forty minutes before walking into that bar for a drink. I had a whole fifteen minutes to spare before my family was expecting me to arrive. Not only was I limited on applicants for the plus-one job, I was also a little short on time.”
Boone’s boots moved closer, crunching the dirt and gravel. “You said you and your boyfriend back home broke up a few days earlier. That gave you a few days to put together a back-up plan. Why wait until you were minutes away from your parents’ front door? Why would you care about having a plus one so badly anyway? The girl I remember didn’t care what people thought about her.”
I reached for my temples again, but no amount of massaging would make the pulsing dim. It was as if everything I’d kept hidden inside me was trying to break free—their preferred path being through the spots I was rubbing furiously.
“Clara?” Boone’s voice was closer, even softer.