Page 65 of Forbidden
“I wanted to talk to you face to face.”
“Why?”
He jumps to his feet, hands on his hips as he glares down at me. He growls and kicks one of the platters. Crackers, cold cuts, and cheese go flying everywhere. I flinch, praying he doesn’t turn his anger on me.
“You could have told me earlier. Saved me all this trouble.”
He moves around the room, putting out the candles.
“Please, Gage –”
“Please what?” he shouts. “Please.What?”
“Don’t be angry.”
“You think I’m angry? You don’t want to see me when I’m angry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t need your apology. I need you to keep your promise.” He takes a deep breath and sits next to me once more. “Can’t you see that he’s just trying to guilt you into staying with him? He knows he’s losing you. Telling you he loves you is his half-assed attempt at getting you to stay.”
“You’re asking me to choose between a man who says he loves me and wants to be with me, and one who’s just biding his time until I’m legal so he can get me into his bed.”
“At least I’m honest. You’ve always known where you stand with me,” he states.
“And that’s the problem. I want more than that.”
“Fine. I’ll call Ron to take you home.”
I turn to him and take his hand. I don’t want to leave things between us like this. “I’d still like us to be friends.”
He drags his hand out of my grip.
“Friends? I can’t be your friend, Raven. You walk out that door, you don’t come back. That’s it. We pretend like none of this ever happened.”
He rises, extinguishes the last of the candles and walks out of the room, leaving me in darkness. I gather my courage and follow behind.
“Gage, don’t be like this.”
He turns around, his expression accusatory.
“What? You want to have your little boyfriend but keep me in the wings, is that it?”
“No…I…”
“You want him because you think he loves you. But you know he can never make you feel the way I make you feel.”
He steps closer, trailing his finger down my cheek. My breath catches.
“He doesn’t steal your breath or make your heart beat fast. His touch doesn’t make you quiver or get you hot. You don’t get wet when you hear his voice. Am I right?”
His finger is now tracing the neckline of my dress and I can barely breathe. He knows he’s right, as much as I wish he wasn’t.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
