Page 75 of My Infatuation with Isabella

“Ugh! Please stop sayingwichu. You said it, like, three times already, and it’s just making me swoon unnecessarily.”

I smile, closing the gap between us. “C’mon...let’s take another shot at this.”

She’s still reluctant. “Dr. Burkman said we’re toxic for each other.”

“Weweretoxic for each other.” I take her hand and pull her closer. “We can be better this time.”

She places her other hand on my chest to keep me at a distance. “Dylan, the only thing that changed today was that I found out you’re not married. The dynamic between us is still the same. There’s still so much you’re not telling me...and I can’t be in a relationship like that.”

“I’m asking you to trust me.”

“But I don’t. The problem with you is that...I’m constantly in a state of trepidation. And I know you, Dylan. It may not be tomorrow, or next week, or next month, but...” She pauses, chewing on her lip as she takes a step away from me. “...but eventually, I’m going to wake up one morning...and you won’t be there. And I won’t know where you are or who you’re with or when you’re coming back. And when you do come back...you won’t give me a reason why you disappeared in the first place. You can’t build trust like that, and you can’t have a relationship where only one person is fully invested.”

“Okay. I understand why you feel that way, but let’s just address your concerns. Emotional hangover week is no longer a thing. My sister is happy and healthy and at home, so I won’t need a break every eight weeks. The event that made me disappear for three weeks was an awful thing and I didn’t know how to handle it at the time...but it’s not something that will be repeated, so I promise I will never do that to you again. And just know that I wouldn’t have left you like that if it wasn’t...important.”

Skepticism is etched on her face. “What about Christmas?”

“If I had a way to contact you, Christmas wouldn’t have played out like that.”

She thinks about it for a long time before she lets out a loaded breath and looks up at me. “I’m sorry, Dylan, but being with you...is such a strain on the heart, and I can’t...I can’t put myself through that again...so, no. I don’t want to give it another try.”

By the number of times she used my name, I knew that was coming. There are only two types of circumstances when she uses my name. When we’re having sex or we’re having a serious fight. Usually, the latter ends with her trying to end it. And that’s exactly what she’s doing here. She gives me a light pat on the chest in place of an awkward goodbye and turns to walk down the sidewalk to her car.

I call out after her before she even takes five steps. “I don’t accept your answer.”

She stops and turns to face me again. “What?”

“I don’t accept your answer.”

She seems amused for a second before she realizes I’m not joking and then something between a scoff and a laugh pops out of her. “You have to accept it. It’s my decision. You don’t get a choice.”

“No, I didn’t get a choice the last time.” I slide my hands into my pockets and take a step toward her. “Those days are gone. I’ve spent more than enough time without you. That ends right now.”

Gaping is her only response for a moment. “Uh...no. No. You can’t force me into a relationship.”

I take another step toward her. “Bella, have you ever heard Scott or Peter say something along the lines of...there’s no talking to Dylan, he’s a brick wall sometimes?”

“Yes,” she replies with a nod. “I’ve heard both of them say that.”

“Yeah, they say that because they know that once I have my mind set on something, there’s no talking me out of it. Just an example. Did you ever wonder why your company had a Christmas party at a five-star hotel that has its own kitchen and staff and food, yet I was catering at that event?” I take another step toward her. “You can ask your boss how well I take no for an answer. When I came up to your room, I think you learned firsthand how well I take no for an answer.”

Her topaz eyes narrow questioningly. “So, when I asked you what you were doing there, and you said you were stalking me again, you were hiding the truth in a joke again.”

“You could say that.”

“That’s...a little crazy.”

“Yeah, well, I’m crazy about you. I know you don’t trust me, and I know that you don’t believe some of the things I’ve told you...but when I say this is a relentless pursuit of what I want...believe that. Now, we can compromise. I’ll meet you halfway, three-quarter way even.” I take another step toward her to reinforce my point. “But I’ll get you to come the rest of the way. Whether I have to coax you, woo you, beg you...” I grip the waistband of her skirt and she gasps when I yank her toward me. “...force you...I’ll get you here...and then I’m never letting you go.”

“Oh, the battle of wills,” she says, her sultry voice a mixture of intrigue and defiance. “Who will win? The suspense is killing me.”

I laugh at her antics. It’s one of the many things I love and hate about her. Slowly, I raise my hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, then lower my head to kiss her half on her cheek and half on her lips. She lets me.

“I’ll see you on Friday, Queen.”

“‘Til Friday, De Lorenzo.”

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