Page 24 of Careless Whisper

She groaned. “You’re so stubborn sometimes. Fine, no marriage, but let’s be in a serious relationship. I don’t just want us to have meaningless sex.”

Since we weren’t having sex, meaningless or otherwise, I couldn’t see her problem. She’d tried since that mistake in Boston—hell, she’d tried last night when I’d told her I’d ordered her an Uber that would take her to her hotel. She’d pouted and asked why I didn’t let her stay at my place when she visited.

I didn’t bring women home as a rule. If we were spending a night, it was either at her place or a hotel. I preferred the impersonal nature of a hotel.

But I’d brought Reggie home.

Maren had asked me then who I was seeing so seriously that I wouldn’t respond to her booty calls. I hadn’ttold her. I’d wanted to keep Reggie a secret. Finally, when the shit hit the fan, I found out that Reggie had told Maren about us and threatened her to stay away from me.

It was hard for me to equate the woman I knew with the woman who’d gone after Maren and killed a patient in the process.

“Maren, I know you want to settle down, but I’m not your man.” Since Maren’s engagement with a venture capitalist broke off, she’d almost desperately wanted to be with me, though I think any eligible man would do.

“You are!” she exclaimed. “Elias, I love you.”

I chuckled. “And I love you, Maren, but?—”

“I’m in love with you, Elias,” she cut me off. “Madly in love. I alway have been. I’ve been…stupid. I thought I’d take what you gave me, but I want more.”

I gaped at her. Mouth open.

Say what?

I snapped my mouth closed.

She wiped tears that had filled her eyes with her napkin and looked at me, hurt radiating in waves from her. “I have always loved you. And you love me. Why can’t we have a go at it?”

“Maren, I always thought we were just friends who?—”

“Fucked?” she spat out. “We made love, Elias. At least I did,always. When I thought I couldn’t have you and Paul proposed…but I didn’t want him.”

I set my fork down and picked up my wine glass. Good thing I didn’t drive because I needed fucking alcohol. I drank my wine like it was a shot.

She pushed her barely eaten risotto away from her. Like so many women I knew, she picked at her food but didn’t eat. She talked about calories and what was healthy and what was not…anddid not eat.

You know who liked food and ate it heartily?Yeah, Reggie.

“No, no, a good taco makes a mess, Eli,” she told me as we stood in front of a food truck close to the waterfront in Boston, freezing our assess off.

“Gigi, I’m going to get freaking sauce all over my coat,” I complained.

“And you can have it drycleaned,” She assured me, proceeding to eat her taco as it leaked juices.

She looked so goddamn happy that I dug in myself, feeling giddy from being with her.

“Say something,” Maren pleaded, yanking me back into the present.

I shook my head in quiet disbelief. “Maren, I…don’t know what to say.”

“You already said the most important thing. You love me.”

“Not likethat. Not the way you want me to.”

“I’ll take whatever you give me.” She eased forward, elbows braced against the table. “I’ll…settle foranythingas long as we can be together.”

That reeked of desperation, and I didn’t like it, not one fucking bit.

My eyes lingered on her as my mind searched for the proper response. “Maren, I don’t want to settle.”

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