God, if she only knew what that did to me. Hearing my name on her lips. Watching it move through her mouth as her stare burns into mine.
It would send a weaker man to his knees.
“I’m sorry,” I force myself to say. My voice is so raspy, it barely makes it past my lips. “Last time, with the pie… at my apartment… what I said to you…”
Her brows lift. Waiting.
“I was out of line.”
“For which part?”
“All of it.” I suck in a breath. She’s not making this easy on me. Not that she should. “I was cruel. I was an asshole. I was honestly just trying to make you leave, any way I could. Because I thought…”
Her head cocks. A rogue curl falls across her face. She doesn’t bother tucking it back behind her ear. “Thought what?”
“I guess I thought pushing you away would be easier than explaining everything.”
“Easier.” She hums. “Right.”
My brows furrow. Is this the same girl who, only days ago, showed up at my doorstep demanding answers? “I guess I’m saying, if you still have questions…”
“Oh, I don’t,” she murmurs, surprising me greatly. The last time I saw her, she was brimming with them. “I don’t have a thing to ask you. Frankly, I’m tired of asking questions. It never seems to get me anywhere.”
My jaw tightens. “Jo—”
“Why don’t I tell you what I know, instead?” she interjects. I see a flash of fierce temper lurking in the depths of her eyes, but she buries it away quickly beneath her frigid composure. “I know about the accident. I know you flipped your truck, totaled it completely. I know you’ve still got scars on your wrist. I know the bones shattered so bad, you were hospitalized for a long time.” She pauses. Looks away from me. Her voice goes absent, as though she’s only half there. As though we’re discussing something trivial, like the weather, not the event that stole every hope and dream I’d ever had. “I know you’re a liar.”
I don’t dare move.
Don’t dare speak.
“You said you came here to explain things. But I don’t trust your explanations, Archer. And I don’t want your evasions or elaborations.” Her eyes find mine once more, and this time they’re completely unguarded. Two blue pools of abhorrence, blasting straight at me across the small distance between us. “I just want you to answer plainly. Whatever I ask. True or false. Confirm or deny. One word, nothing more.” She pauses, breathing hard. “Can you do that?”
I nod.
“Good.” She seems to steel herself. “First… that note you wrote last summer…”
I go still as I wait for the other shoe to drop. Right now, in this fractured moment, she could ask me anything and I’d answer her honestly. If she wants me to admit I lied about my feelings for her, I’ll do it. I’m ready. I cannot keep pretending otherwise. I cannot keep lying to her. Even if it means the Valentines send their lawyers after me with more threats, even if it means staking my word — whatever little its worth — against theirs. Even if it means telling the girl I love it was her parents who crushed our chance at happiness.
Screw Blair and Vincent.
Screw the repercussions.
Screw everything but us.
“You lied when you said you were going to that All-Star camp,” Jo continues, watching me closely. “You never went away. You were right here all along, recovering from your injuries. True or false?”
“True.”
“You lost your scholarship last fall. True or false?”
“True.”
“You never went away to college. True or false?”
“True.”
“You work as a lobsterman full-time, not as a summer job. True or false?”