And say, what exactly?Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged? Why did you take me out that night, be wonderful, and make me believe we had something? That you were interested? Why are you such a giant tool?
Stopping short, I leaned my head against a cold concrete wall. No context could explain away the moment I’d stood in that lobby. Shocked and devastated and embarrassed. There was nothing to say. Nothing to know. I didn’t need to ask the questions because that would imply I cared. And I didn’t. Because fuck him.
I pulled my boots back on and walked out the side door, braced by the frigid December wind on my face. Fuck him and his tailored suit and his designer watch, his fancy job, and his perfect fiancée, who was probably now his perfect wife.
I got closer to the north side of the student lot, where he’d parked, enjoying the harsh sound of my heels on the pavement.
My eyes lifted to his car. Fuck him and his Audi and—
Fuck me.
Will leaned his elbows against the sleek exterior, ankles crossed casually in front of him. He glanced up, and my breath caught as his wind-tousled hair grazed his forehead. Raising an arm, he gave me a soft smile. His gray eyes shone, half-mast and hooded—and goddamn, those lashes. Still so thick they madehis lids appear rimmed with liner. His expression so full of hope and expectation, I almost surrendered my glare. Almost.
“Hi,” he began artlessly, pushing away from the vehicle as I approached.
“Hey.”
“I’m glad you texted.” He folded his arms over his olive-green sweater. I recognized the brand, Buck Mason. The fashion buyer in me approved. I scowled at him.
“What else could I do?” I hissed, not mincing words. “It’s not like I would have chosen to see you again. Or talk to you. But you’re here. So, obviously, we need to.”
He nodded, and his breaths grew long and drawn. “Okay. I get it. Even so, I’m grateful. I tried to talk to you after that day in the hotel—”
“I don’t want to discuss that,Will.” Gnashing my teeth together, I leveled him with a hard stare.
His brows knitted together. “Then why—”
“I don’t want to talk about that day. Or about the night we hung out.”
“Okay, but—”
“I just want to make sure we’re clear moving forward that four years ago didn’t happen. None of it. As far as everyone else is concerned—especially Marley and James—you and I never met before tonight. Got it?” I inhaled deeply, proud I’d gotten my words out quickly and succinctly.
“Maureen, I know you’re angry. And of course you have every right to be.” He dropped his arms to his sides as urgency clouded his features. “But if you’ll give me a minute, I’d like to tell you what was happening back then. I promise I’m not trying to make excuses. I just want to explain.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I don’t need your explanations. If I wanted them, I wouldn’t have blocked your number.”
“But, Mo—”
“Don’t fucking call me that!” I smoothed my hands over my dress as I checked around to make sure no one could hear us.
“Sorry, sorry.” He held up his palms, seemingly unconcerned about his lack of fingers being prominently on display. “Maureen. I won’t forget again.” He cupped his hands together and blew into them. “I get what you’re saying, but if you let me—”
“I already told you I don’t want to hear it,” I whisper-snarled. “And you don’t get to clear your conscience or whatever it is you’re trying to do by forcing me to listen—”
“That’s not what I’m trying to—”
“Just. Stop. Nothing you can say will make it better. Nothing I need clarity on. There are no misunderstandings here. Four years ago, I found out you are an enormous prick. That’s all I really need to know. I’m not interested in re-litigating the past, reliving it, or whatever it is you’re trying to do here.”
His face fell. He paused before speaking again. “I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted to do back then was hurt you.”
I barely escaped choking on my breath. “Whoa. Hold up.” My cheeks heated. It was a strange sensation, being full-up with emotion. I stepped back, crossing my hands back and forth in front of myself. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I said you were a total dick. I never said you hurt me.”
“Of course. Sorry.” He crooked an elbow behind his head and exhaled heavily. “Look, I’m just saying I know you’re right. Iwasa prick.”
