“It’s complicated.”
“I might not be as worldly as you apparently are, but I’m not dumb, Mason.” She arches a brow. “Use your words and explain it to me.”
I blow out a breath. She’s right. “Yes, it’s up to you. It’s your choice, until you give that choice over to me. Once you give me that choice—it’s my decision.”
“Always?”
I shrug. “It depends.”
“On what?”
I can hear the frustration in her tone. But I meet her gaze, unwavering. “On if I say you get a choice in the matter.”
She crosses her arms and legs. Completely closed off. “Well, since you’re breaking up with me, I don’t have to abide by your rules, now do I? And I demand we try.”
I burst out laughing, surprised I still can, given the circumstances. “You demand, huh?”
She nods, swinging her foot with purpose. This is a new side of her, and I like the touch of defiance.
Her chin tilts, her gaze narrowing. “You owe me, Mason.”
“Do I?”
Well, this is an interesting turn of events.Something about this makes her want to challenge me. And I can’t deny, that interests me. It’s something I’ve not seen from her before.
“Yes.” She waves a hand at me. “You caused this mess. This is your fault. Now you have to fix it.”
All of the demanding, blunt nature I’ve repressed rises to the surface. I’m rusty, but I haven’t forgotten how. I raise a brow. “So I have to fuck you to fix it, is that what you’re saying?”
Heat splashes across her cheeks, but she nods. “You owe me this chance.”
And then it hits me—part of my struggle with her. All her sweetness is beautiful on her, but it’s part of why I’ve never pushed this issue. I thought I’d break her.
Not in a good way, as it should be, but in a way that would make her a doormat.
And that’s something I couldn’t handle.
The goal in tearing her down is to build her back up, stronger and more powerfully sure of herself. Until this moment, I hadn’t seen that capacity in her.
I play it cool, shrugging. “I guess you’ve got me there, don’t you?”
A tilt of that stubborn chin. “Yes, I do.”
“You’re right.”
“I know.” A flash of smugness.
I let her have it, because she’s right. We’ve spent six months together. I owe her the chance to get to know the real me. If she runs, if she hates it, it will settle questions for both of us. We can walk away assured it would never work between us. But if we’re going to do this, she needs to come to me with eyes wide open.
First order of business: Clarity.
I turn to face her more fully. “Communication is key, so let’s be crystal clear here, shall we?”
“That would be a nice change of pace.” Her lips tilt, not a quite a smile, but not quite a smirk.
“I deserve that.” Another time I’ll play with that hint of sassiness, see if I can coax it out and let it really get her into trouble, but not now. “I’m going to make you a promise.”
“Okay.”