“Yeah?” He arched an eyebrow at me skeptically.
“Delusional,” I confirmed, retreating another step.
“Mhm.”
“Seriously, this is pathetic,” I lashed out, falling back on hostility to dissuade him. It had worked before. “Look, I get it. You’re rewriting the past to make it less painful for yourself. But that doesn’t mean you’re right.”
“Oh, burn,” Bash mocked, grinning as he advanced on me. “You got me.”
Shit.
Abruptly, I felt my back hit the wall. He’d boxed me into a corner. Before I could squirm away, his arms came up on either side to form a cage around me, and he leaned down so we were face to face.
“I didn’t see it seven years ago. I was too hurt, too mad. But I see it now.”
“What?” I bit out, glaring up at him.
“You lied then. Just like you’re lying now.” He leaned closer so our lips aligned perfectly, separated by the smallest sliver of space. “I still don’t know why. But you know what, Freckles?”
My breathing stopped entirely as the endearment left his lips and he moved fractionally closer, closing the gap between us until our mouths brushed in the hint of a kiss. When he spoke again, I felt his words before I heard them.
“I intend to find out.”
His eyes were solemn, his voice more serious than I’d ever heard it. They weren’t just words — it wasn’t just a statement of curiosity or an expressed desire to solve a seven-year-old mystery.
It was a vow. It was a promise.
He breathed his declaration into my mouth and deep down into my soul, where it fanned the flames of panic and passion raging simultaneously within me. And before I could move, speak, breathe, think — he was gone. Striding to my apartment door and out into the hallway without another word.
I lifted a hand to trace my still-tingling lips with my fingertips, staring at my closed door with disbelief. I simply couldn’t believe it — my mind refused to process that whatever had just happened was real. Because if it was…
Bash knew. Maybe not everything, but certainly enough to send him digging into our past.
Shit.