I didn’t know how the rest of his day had gone, but I sure as shit knew I had not made it any better. Groveling or apologizing for fuckboy behavior was not exactly in my wheelhouse either. I usually got out before shit got anywhere near complicated. But I was doing this, because if anything I wasn’t going to let Easton think that he deserved to be treated like he didn’t matter.

“I’m not sure why I thought showing up at your house with two tubs full of soup was a great idea, but I figured I at least owed you some dinner,” I said in a friendly tone that didn’t get me more of a reaction. If his intention was to make me squirm, things were certainly going as planned.

His expression still gave me nothing, and the desperation I felt made me think of something Nesto told me. I had to stop pretending, because right now, all I could think of was that I would do anything to make him smile again. To have him talk to me like he wanted me here. The urge to plead for another chance was on the tip of my tongue, I didn’t even know what I’d ask for. I just knew I wanted more time with him.

We stood there in silence. Easton’s eyes on me, and his gaze completely serious. “Why are you really here, Patrice?”

I squirmed under his scrutiny, the way his entire body seemed to be asking the question.

Tonight I was getting the full treatment from Assistant District Attorney Easton Archer. He just stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall by his door, patiently waiting for me to crumble under his stare.

He didn’t have to make this easier for me. So far, he’d spent every minute we’d been together accommodating my hang-ups. Smiling through all the mixed signals I kept sending his way, unrelenting in his honesty about how he felt about me. He told me again and again that he wanted me. That the rest we could figure out as we went. Not tonight.

He was going to make me say it, and really I owed both of us that much. If I’d gotten anything from Ari’s words today, it was that I needed to stop acting like what I felt for Easton was something that was just happening to me.

I opened my mouth to say some other asinine reason for why I was standing here, but before I started I closed my mouth. He deserved better than this, than me making shit up just to keep from admitting to why I was here. I was deliberate in every other part of my life. I had to stop acting like my heart didn’t deserve the same intention.