Page 72 of Surviving Slater

He pushed off the wall and stood in front of me. The way he looked at me made me swallow as I tried to keep cool.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to harden myself against him. He had no right to be here.

"To finish our conversation."

"Like I told you before, I'm fine."

"Do you really want to have this conversation out here?" His eyes held mine, challenging me. With one look he could make me feel so aware of myself and his distance from me.

I didn't want to have this conversation at all and the thought of having it out in front where anyone could hear us was less appealing. But the determined look he gave me made me step back so he could enter the apartment.

Feeling angry he'd shown up and that I had let him in, I closed the door harder than necessary. I followed him into the living room.

"Where's Levi?" he asked, looking around the room.

"Out," I replied in a clipped tone, not wanting to reveal anything more than he asked.

"Without you?" he asked, looking back at me. I hated how his eyes saw more than anyone else.

"I'm not sure what you mean by that," I replied, crossing my arms.

"It doesn't matter," he said, rolling his shoulders back. The movement tightened his shirt around his stomach and I got the impression of the tight muscles underneath it.

Keep your focus, I told myself, refusing to allow my physical attraction to him to cloud my judgment.

I remembered Cathy and it helped harden my heart to him. Like Matthew had told me, I had to let Slater go, and I had to find someone who could love me—because Slater would never be able to.

"Why are you here?" I asked him, hoping he would get to the point. The sooner I got him out of here the better for me.

Being around him scrambled my thoughts and it was hard to remember all the reasons to stay away from him. Looking into his eyes was hypnotizing and all I could remember was how it felt to have his body against mine.

"I'm still worried about you," he said. The dismissive shrug did nothing to lighten his statement.

"Worrying about me would entail caring, and we have already established that you don't." It was a direct blow but I couldn't help myself. His eyes hardened and his lips tightened.

I had hoped he would argue but his silence only hurt more.

"I need you to leave me alone," I said, gripping my arms tighter. It was the right thing to do but the ache in my chest worsened. "Nothing that is happening to me has anything to do with you."

I was letting him go, without any responsibility. He could carry on with his shallow screws and never feel an emotional connection to anyone. I would find a way to carry the burden of my childhood without relying on medication to keep me functioning.

It had to be that way.

"I don't believe you," he said, stepping closer, and I fought the instinct to take a step backward. "It was my action that brought this on."

I frowned.

"The other night if I had left things alone, you would be okay."

I wanted to argue but we both knew it was the truth.

"It was only a matter of time before it happened," I assured him, knowing despite my attempts to ignore what had happened to me it would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I couldn't fix myself on my own but I wasn't prepared to go see someone who would be able to help me. Maybe one day I would be ready.

"I feel responsible," he said. "And I don't like the feeling that I caused it."

I dropped my gaze for a moment to collect myself. Speaking about it only brought it more into focus and I didn't want to take a magnifying glass to it. I wanted to be able to lock it away and pretend it never happened.