Page 79 of Late to Love

He jumps up with a roar, his eyes flashing as rivulets of water drip down his face. “What the fuck was that for?”

As calmly as you please, I screw the cup’s lid back on. “Youare being an asshole, and you needed to cool off. I helped.”

His eyes narrow, and it emphasizes the mottled skin around his left eye that is, somewhat impressively, almost a dead match for the one his brother has. When he speaks, it’s laced with a dismissive cruelty I’ve not heard before. “Go away, Darcy. Leave me alone and go home.”

My spine straightens as he tries to turn away. But he’s got another thing coming if he thinks I’m letting him act like this. “You owe me an apology,” I say, reaching to touch his arm and bring his attention back to me. “Andyou need to get your shit together and stop acting like a child!”

He scoffs. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“And what does that mean?”

He throws his arms wide, water droplets flinging. “That you’re the child here!”

Did hereallyjust go there? “Oh, fuck you, Anthony.”

He shifts on his feet, crossing his arms and smirking. And for the first time, he doesn’t look sexy or hot at all. He looks cold. Heartless. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Hackles up, I shout back, “You’re wrong!”

“No,” he says, his voice so low I almost don’t hear it over the ocean. “I’m not. You’re twenty-four, Darcy. Twenty. Four. I, on the other hand, am a forty-one-year-old man who’s got no business with someone like you. You. Are. A. Child.”

Anger flares hot and bright and I blink furiously, praying the tears don’t come. I take a step back, refusing to let him see how his words hurt. “You are so fucking bitter,” I spit. “And for what? Your parents didn’t pay enough attention to you? Grow the fuck up. At least youhada mother, Anthony. Sure, you were the oldest to twins and had to figure stuff out a lot faster than you would have otherwise. You poor baby. You know what I had? A single father who didn’t know what to do with me for years, but he fucking tried, and there were times he absolutely messed up, but he loved me. Could things be better? Sure. Is he perfect? Definitely not. But wetalk. When was the last fucking time you pulled your head out of your ass and actuallytalkedto your parents? Did you ever think that this is a two-way street? Huh?”

He blinks, as though none of this has actually occurred to him. “There’s more to it than that,” he finally says quietly.

“I’m sure there is,” I sigh. “But you haven’t told meanythingabout this, Anthony. Nothing. You and I are a two-way street, as well.”

His jaw ticks, but he says nothing else.

I laugh. It’s all I can do, because I don’t have any more water to dump on him. Clueless fucking man. “And you thinkI’mthe child?” I take another step back, then another, shaking my head the whole time. “I love you, I do. You have some serious work to do on yourself. Call me when you come to your senses and you’re ready to apologize.”

Men.Ugh.

Chapter30

Anthony

IWATCH HER leave, my thoughts scrambling, my throat working to swallow the baseball-sized lump in it, and all I can think is,damn. Damn that woman. That infuriating, beautiful—one hundred percentcorrect—woman. This whole time I thought I was teaching her, when really, she was the one teaching me.

Again: dammit.

“Your parents didn’t pay enough attention to you? Grow the fuck up. At least you had a mother, Anthony. Sure, you were the oldest to twins and had to figure stuff out a lot faster than you would have otherwise. You poor baby.”

Her words swirl around my head, and wow, I sound like a shithead.

Have I really been like this the whole time?

All my actions with my brothers, the past two decades in particular, and the way I’ve been with my parents. Has it all been my fault?

Fuck it all to hell.

Crouching down and shoving my hand through my hair, I yell at the sand. Then I leap up and yell at the ocean. This is all my fault. I’ve never bothered to say anything to my parents or my brothers, and here I am, literally yelling at the world because I have absolutely fucked up.

I take a few minutes to consider my next move. I could go after Darcy, tell her I was wrong, and she was completely, without question, right about everything she said, and beg her to forgive me. The thing is, I’m not sure she’d believe me. Darcy’s a woman who believes in action. And I’ve got a lot todo, starting with my family.

With my mind made up, I head to my parents’ house. The drive is only about twenty minutes down the road that abuts the shoreline, which doesn’t give me a lot of time to think. And that’s probably for the best, because I don’t need to think. I need to feel. AndthenI can think about how I feel.

I snort. I have no idea if that makes any sense. Guess I need to be okay with that, though, because for once, I don’t care if any of this makes me sound like some kind of woo-woo person. Not when ignoring my feelings has gotten me here, where I’m forty-one and the woman I love is telling me in no uncertain terms to grow up. The woman who is seventeen years younger than me, for fuck’s sake.

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