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He knows it, too.
His hips brush my stomach, his amber eyes warming until they are molten. There is so much promise in the gentle sway of his strong body, and my fingernails are scarring the door at my sides as I fight to keep from touching him.
“You know you want this.”
His voice is a tease, a dare, the tone soft yet mocking.
Through clenched teeth, I close my eyes and whisper, “It’s not about what I want.”
A tear breaks loose to slide down my face and the bastard catches it with a finger.
You’re so pretty when you cry...
Anger rolls through me with the memory of those words, of the pain he’s caused. I cling to them, fucking hold on with two fists because I need that anger right now. How dare he keep doing this to me over and over again?
“You want this,” he whispers.
Yes. I do.
But I can’t have it.
No matter how much I want it.
And neither can he.
My eyes flick open to lock with his, the anger welling inside me until it’s spilling over my tongue with every word I give him in response.
“What do you think can come of this Ezra? What will we be? In agony like Ava and Mason every day? Two people who know that no matter how hard they love each other and how desperately they hang on, that in the end there’s nothing they can do about being torn apart. I’m marrying Mason in less than two years.”
“We’ll fucking fix that,” he growls, refusingyet againto hear the truth.
Apparently, I have to keep stabbing and stabbing until I find the one barrier he’ll never be able to tear down. Ezra won’t leave unless he’s angry. So that’s what I attempt to make him.
“Oh, yeah? And what about Damon? Huh? What about him? It would destroy him if we ended up together.”
Tears leak from my eyes, and he kisses them away, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks.
Ezra presses his forehead to mine and traps my eyes.
“He was never supposed to fall in love. You’ve always been mine, Emily, you know that! He was only part of this for fun.”
I just want to scream, but I laugh instead. How can he think any of this is possible?
“Yeah, I remember when he was brought in. For your fucking amusement. Foryourfun. And look what you fucking did by playing those games. This isn’t my fault.”
“You’re mine,” he insists. And he’s not wrong. But that still doesn’t fix anything.
He says it over and over, as if just that phrase makes everything okay, but all I can do is shake my head and knock his hands away.
“I’m sorry, Ezra. But there’s too much standing between us.”
With a palm against his chest, I do what I should have done the first second he talked to me at the engagement party. I shove him back.
“I love you, but there is no possibility of fixing this. It doesn’t matter how we feel. It’s over.”
Knowing I only have a few seconds before he stops me again, I turn and open the door, practically sprinting through the restaurant like a crazy woman being chased.
Bursting outside, I keep going, my legs burning until I reach my car, my heart shredded as I climb inside and start the engine.