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A deep groove appeared between his brows. “Why are you asking that? I thought I made it crystal clear.”
I had to take a second to gather my thoughts. I wasn’t used to a guy wanting to know why I felt the way I did. Maybe that’s why none of my previous relationships worked. Those guys were douchecanoes. Yet I’d just attributed the failure of those relationships to my wild attraction to Peter.
I was such an idiot sometimes.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Tris. I can’t make things better if you won’t talk to me.” He released his tight hold and let his hands drift to my hips.
“Fake dating is fine. Being used is another. The way you talked to Ollie was like I was a little checkbox on the list of things to do to help your career. It hurt my feelings,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh.”
When he didn’t elaborate, my skin buzzed with anger.
“Oh? That’s all you have to say?” My lips pressed shut. I knew I was overreacting and I couldn’t stop myself.
His brow furrowed in concentration. When he shook his head I realized he hadn’t even seen the conversation in the same light I did. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Either way I needed to communicate why it had irked me so much.
“Tink—”
I poked his chest once, and feeling a deep sense of satisfaction at his look of surprise I did it again. “I thought you were serious earlier. That you still felt something for me.”
“Tink—”
“Ifinallysee us for what we could be?—”
“Let me?—”
I didn’t bother to let him get another word in. “And then you act all like a boost in sales and that the press is eating up our story means that the shit with the drug bust was losing its momentum is what’s important. Not that you’re happy we reallyaretogether.” My breath shuddered out as my anger lost steam, and I sunk into the seat. Max was surely getting a show. “I mean, after what happened earlier, I kind of thought we weren’t pretending anymore.” I hated the sadness that tinged each word.
Killian scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Tink, I had no idea that what I said made you feel like that. I’m sorry.”
I opened my mouth to ream him out again until his words registered. “You’re sorry?”
“Yeah, Trissabelle, I’m telling you I’m sorry. To me and to the world, we’re together. I should’ve realized how that might have sounded to you.”
I gave a jerky nod. Maybe I was overreacting. That being pushed aside by Peter all these years and not having a single boyfriend who wanted to stick around might be circling in my head a little too much, and maybe, just maybe I was taking that out on Killian.
“And as for what happened tonight.” He tugged me closer, his fingers brushing along my cheek. “I still want that. Don’t you?”
“I do.”
He stretched his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him.
That tight ache in my sternum slowly eased as I burrowed my face against his chest, tired from the night and exhausted from my fluctuating emotions. The steady beat of his heart beneath my cheek soothed me.
“I’m a shit fake boyfriend. In fact, I’m probably a pretty shitty real boyfriend too.”
“Is that right?” My heartbeat which had settled into the same easy rhythm as his, sped up now, pounding hard like it wanted to escape its confines.
His shoulders moved beneath me in a shrug. “I’ve never been one, so yeah.”
My head whipped up, so fast his poor chin almost became a casualty. Luckily, he had great reflexes and leaned back before any damage could occur. “That can’t be true. You always had girls with you in high school, and even now.” I thought back to the woman on his yacht that he’d kissed and a frisson of jealousy slithered through me.
“I never did anything more than date them or fuck them.” His casual crass assessment made my heart ache for him. As grateful as I was that he’d never found love in our years apart, it also made me sad to know he’d never experienced it.
“Not one?” I still found it hard to believe.
“I never wanted to be tied down,” he admitted.