Flinching, I stiffened.

“Oh no, no you do not take that like I just insulted you. You’re not in their ballpark, because I’m not playing any bullshit games with you. You get me? What I had with them or what I didn’t isn’t anything like what I got going with you. Okay?” He continued before I could answer. “And I wanted to talk to you about what had gone down in the bar when your friends showed up, but you were almost kidnapped and then Clyde had a heart attack, so really, there hasn’t been a good time to talk about that shit.”

Once again, he made a good point, and I hated that. Like for real.

“But we’re going to talk about that now—we’re going to finish the conversation you should’ve let me finish before you walked away from me.” He advanced forward, and man, he was pissed. I forced myself not to move. “You were right.”

I blinked.

“I should’ve done more to make sure Aimee got the picture that I wasn’t interested and I wasn’t into her. Every time she touched me or got up on me, I stepped back. I didn’t just stand there and let her. But yeah, I obviously didn’t do enough. And I didn’t even realize how much I didn’t do, because I never expected her to show up here. And not only that, but when I realized how hurt you were and how embarrassed you were, I did feel like shit about that. I still feel like shit over that. There wasn’t a whole lot of time to tell you that or even show you, but I did.” He paused, his dark and intense eyes holding mine. “I never want you to be embarrassed over me or anything I do, but you were, and for that I’m fucking sorry. I really am. And that shit isn’t going to happen again.”

Some of my anger started to slip away, and I grabbed at it, trying to hold it close, because anger got me through a lot, but what he said was the right thing to say. And he was right. A lot of crap had happened between Saturday and now. So much that I hadn’t really even thought about how Aimee had behaved in the bar until she showed up tonight.

“You got anything to say to that?” he asked.

I did. There was a lot I could say. This was the moment that he was giving me to take this whole shitstorm to a rational place, but I didn’t say anything, because there was a part of me that was still mad and I still was hurt and I was embarrassed about all of that and more. And I wanted to be a bitch. So I stared back at him in silence.

“Nice,” he retorted.

A wave of goose bumps rushed down the back of my neck. I needed to open my mouth. I needed to say something.

Then he moved another step and he was right in front of me. “I’m going to tell you what else, Calla. Like your life hasn’t been normal. It hasn’t been much of a life.”