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“She’s a good kid.” I drop my hand, giving her a non-committal shrug. “Is there a point here, Grace, or are you just kicking me in the balls for sport?”
She lets out a strangled sound and throws up her hands in frustration. “You said you weren’t equipped to have—”
“Stop.” I bark it at her, my tone suddenly hard and loud enough to draw attention from a few people milling around the lobby. “Just—stop.” Taking a step away from her, I shake my head. “You should go.”
She doesn’t stop. She completely ignores the warning in my tone. “I thought like most guys, that you weren’t interested in me because of Molly but that’s not it, is it?” Her tone lifts to match mine, drawing even more stares.
“No.” I shake my head again, allowing myself to be as honest with her as I can. “She’s not the problem. I said she wasn’t.”
“Then what?” He tone softens. Thins out into a whisper. “Why don’t you want me?”
I take a step forward, closing the space between us until I’m standing over her. “You got it backwards, Grace,” I tell her, face tipped so I’m glaring down at her. “You don’t want me.” I clench my jaw, trying to stop the truth from finding its way out of my mouth. “You just haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Is this about my dad? What he said?” Her forehead crumples in confusion. “Because I’m a grown woman, I can—”
“How many times do we go out before we fuck?” I push the question through clenched teeth. “In your fucked-up fantasyland where I take you for coffee or to a movie, and bring you flowers and tell you how beautiful you are, how long does it take us to get naked?” She goes completely white, the color rushing from her face so fast I’m suddenly worried she’s going to pass out. Worried or not, I force myself to finish it. To end this thing between us. Push her away, once and for all. “Three times? Five times? How many?”
She shakes her head at me. “I—”
“Because that’s when it happens. That’s when you figure it out.” I look right at her when I say it. Force myself to look her right in the eye. Force her to take every bit of fucked-up anger and bitter regret that I feel. “Because when we finally get down to business and you see what I’ve got going on below the waist, you’ll want to run. You’ll take one look at me and wish you had when I gave you the chance.”
“Ryan...” She whispers my name. Lifts a hand to place it on my forearm, the pressure of it coupled with the soft sound of her voice, sets off those alarm bells. Reminds me of all the ways I’ve dreamt of her. Of how it ends.
Every single time.
“When I say I’m not equipped, that’s exactly what I mean, Grace—” I lean in further, shifting over her to press my mouth to her ear. “I can’t fuck you, and even if I could—trust me, you wouldn’t want me to.” Pushing myself away from her, I shift my gaze downward to find her staring up at me, eyes wide and not a little bit alarmed. Soft mouth slightly parted like she’s on the verge of raising the alarm. “So, I think it’s best for both of us if you stay away the fuck away from me.”