“You’re totally doing it right now.”
Scarlett sat on the edge of my bed, tucking one leg under her. “Okay, fine. Do you want my honest opinion?”
“Is there any other kind?”
“Sounds to me like he’s fighting his feelings for you.”
I threw a balled-up pair of socks into the suitcase. “Don’t romanticize rejection. I’m a strong, independent woman. If he doesn’t want me, for any reason, that’s it. Any possible romance over.”
She studied me.
“What?” I demanded.
“Nothing.”
“And yet you’re looking at me like you’ve got a doctoral thesis forming in that head of yours, so just spit it out.”
Scarlett leaned forward, her hair falling over one shoulder. “I’m not romanticizing rejection. You got hurt on that terrace, and that absolutely sucks. But this isn’t some random guy from a dating app. This is Blake. Your history together is practically a novel of its own. Of course he’s overthinking things.”
“He wasn’t overthinking when he went down on me,” I muttered, then immediately wished I hadn’t brought it up.
“That’s exactly my point!” Scarlett’s eyes lit up. “His control snapped. And the minute he got an ounce of it back, he startedfighting the current again. If you want proof he’s in love with you?—”
“He’s not in love with me.” The words sliced through the air between us.
“Look at the evidence.” Scarlett ticked off points on her fingers. “When you got sick, he moved you into his penthouse and personally took on your case on top of his already-excessive workload. He gave you your first orgasm.” She paused. “And now his knuckles are bloody because of whatever your ex did.”
Okay, I felt like a jerk; I told her Blake’s anger was over an ex, but I really didn’t want to be all,Hey,FYI, I was assaulted in college and, you know, complications.
I glanced at the window, where city lights blurred through the gathering darkness.
“I hate you for being rational right now,” I said. “You know I need you to be my shoulder to cry on, not my voice of reason.”
“Have you ever asked him why he doesn’t do relationships?”
I stilled. “That’s not what this is.”
“That’s exactly what this is. My question stands.”
I shrugged. “I have a pretty good guess. His parents died in a car accident, so he’s probably traumatized.”
“You’ve been friends for years and the best you can give me is ‘probably’?”
“What difference would it make?”
Scarlett’s voice softened. “Based on everything you’ve told me, it could make all the difference. If you understood why he runs for the hills, maybe you could stop being so angry with him. Do you really want to lose Blake as a friend?”
The question stabbed me like a sword through the ribs. No. No, I didn’t. Even through all this hurt and rejection and pain, Blake had been a constant in my life, someone I could go to outside of my brother and Scarlett. Too important to lose.
Scarlett leaned forward, her voice dropping to that gentle tone she used when she was about to say something I wouldn’t like. “And for some reason, it sounds like if he explores a relationship with you, he’s scared he’ll lose you. Maybe you should ask him why.”
I fidgeted with a loose thread on my sleeve. “What makes you think he’safraid?”
“Because every action says that he’s in love with you, Tessa.” Scarlett’s eyes held mine, unflinching. “But every time you get too close to the fire, he backs off.”
I blinked, hating that there was a possibility she was right because as I replayed the last several years, that push-pull I’d always gotten from him would make sense. But I didn’t want it to make sense. Being angry at him and feeling rejected was simple, clean, black and white.
“Well, I can ask him some other day,” I muttered, shoving another handful of clothes into my suitcase. “Right now, I need to get all my stuff and move out.”
