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this little game. You don’t get to interfere in my life and then not tell me the
reason.”
“You know what’s funny, kitten?” I rise to my full height and stalk
closer, making her neck tilt. “You want me to admit my feelings yet you
yourself won’t give me the full truth.”
I smirk viciously when her confidence falters. We both know she’s not
just here to prove me a liar and punish me in her own perfect way.
It’s another last attempt to make me her fake husband.
A bold plan but fuck if it’s not working.
Our gazes remain locked in a silent war as I wait patiently for her to
either deny or simply walk. I gloat thinking I have all the power, but I fume
when she crushes it with a finality.
“You’re right... somewhat,” she says, smirking. “I’m still going with
my plan, but I didn’t come here for you. I was going to ask Justin, an idea
you gave me, by the way. But making you jealous... Well, that was just the
icing on the cake.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m still going to ask him.”
“The fuck you will,” I growl, my mood darkening. “Come. Here.”
“No.” She shakes her head and turns around to leave.
Once again I’m thrown back to the night I saw her for the first time in
my bedroom and then watched her leave with Niall—just like right now to
someone else. An urgency like never before spreads through me and every
single thought turns to dust except the thought of not letting her walk away.
“I wasn’t jealous seeing you with him, Bianca.” My guttural and raw
voice stills her just as she reaches the hallway. “I was in pain.”
I cross the distance and take her hand in mine, slowly turning her around
to face me. Tilting her head back, I cup her cheek and let it all out. “Every
single smile, every word, every touch that you gave him freely made me see
and bleed red. It was a constant battle inside my head to not care, to not stare
and not have you all to myself.”
Everything I say is the truth, except I wasn’t talking about Justin.
And she doesn’t even realize it.
“Dash.”
“But I still can’t marry you,” I utter. “Even if it’s fake and a sham.”