Page 87 of Phishing for Love
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t,” he says patiently. “That’s why I’m asking.”
“You didn’t want me to see Nathan with another woman, did you?”
After a pause, he says evenly, “No, I didn’t.”
Resentment prickles. “Is this some kind of boys’ club where you protect one another?”
He sets his glass down, pushes himself off the counter, and closes the distance between us. “You think I’m concerned about sparing your idiot ex-boyfriend’s feelings?” he asks, displeasure roughening his voice. “I wasn’t protecting him. I was protecting you.”
Oh.
My heart trips over itself.
His gaze is steady on mine. “I knew seeing him with another woman would hurt you, and I didn’t want to see you hurt.”
His eyes are so blue, the look in them so tender. I didn’t equate Aaron with tenderness. Then again, I didn’t equate Nathan with cheating. Looks like I’m wrong on both counts.
What a turn of events. My handsome, easy-going boyfriend turns out to be a lying cheat. And my grumpy, sardonic nemesis turns out to be a protective sweetheart.
Funny, the curveballs life hurls at you.
Except I’m not laughing.
Instead, tears prick my eyes again and I try desperately to blink them back. Why can’t I stop crying?
“Come here,” Aaron says softly, sighing.
As my tears escape and trickle down my cheeks, he gathers me up against him and tucks me under his chin. I let him because I need this right now. Closing my eyes, I rest my cheek against his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart in my ear. It feels good to lean on his strength. I’ll be stronger in the morning. Right now, though, he’s strong enough for the both of us.
“That lame excuse of a man is not worth even one of your tears,” Aaron tells me, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “He’s not worth you.”
My breath catches at his words and the tightness in my chest eases a little.
I don’t know how long we stay like that. Eventually, I draw in a shuddering breath and step out of his arms. All I feel is immense tiredness.
“I’m going to bed,” I announce, my shoulders sinking with fatigue. “Are you okay to let yourself out?”
“No problem.”
I feel his eyes on me as I exit the kitchen and walk through my living room. I sneak one last look over my shoulder before I disappear down the hallway to my bedroom. Aaron is still standing there, a dark, silent presence watching over me.
“Thank you for being with me tonight.”
He nods. “Goodnight, Tess,” he says softly.
“Goodnight.”
And I close my door and leave him standing there alone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I wake up with sore and swollen eyes. The morning sun filters through my half-closed blinds, spotlighting dust motes suspended in the air. Blearily, I check the time on my bedside clock: 6:30 a.m.
I made it through the night, is my first thought. A small milestone, but one I’ll take.
