That pissed me off even more—I didn’t want him to look at me like I was some sort of hissing kitten, cute in its anger.
“They were in our territory, and they came after a patched-in member,” I said, my voice steelier than I can ever remember it being. “They’re not a part of your club anymore, and you have no claim over me. It’s not your call.”
“I can’t just let this slide.”
“Jesus Christ!” I shouted.
I was so fucking frustrated, I was worried it might spill over into tears for real. I just wanted Dante out of my room, out of my space—I needed to get my head on straight. I didn’t need another guy in my life trampling over my boundaries and willfully misconstruing every word I said.
“This is supposed to be a working relationship, right? You’re here to fix the relationship between our clubs, and our friendship is secondary to that. That’s what you said.” I grimaced. “If you want things to stay on track, you need to fucking listen to me—and to Blade, too. Not everything is on your shoulders, Dante. And this? It’s Hell’s Ankhor business, and I’ll figure it out with my club. Before this happened, you were all about keeping things friendly and professional and casual, and now you’re in my face demanding you’re going to be with me twenty-four-seven? I can’t keep up with you!”
Dante took a step back, giving me more space. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and then took a deep breath and cast his gaze to the ceiling. I braced myself for whatever was about to come out of his mouth, amping myself up to keep fighting back.
“You’re right,” he said. “I’m being a dick.”
I swallowed then blinked hard, all the wind taken out of my sails. The tears were really pricking at the corners of my eyes now, but didn’t fall. “Yeah, you really are.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Dante scrubbed his hand roughly over his face, and then sighed. He stepped a little closer, and I stepped back, bumping into the foot of my bed. But not because I actually wanted the distance—more because I was afraid of what I might do if he closed the distance entirely. “I’ve just been trying to… to take things slow. And keep things professional. As professional as I can.” He laughed darkly. “At least until the reparations are over.”
“What does that have to do with you being a dick?” I asked.
“I’m not thinking straight,” he admitted. “I’m just… My emotions got the better of me.”
“I don’t understand.” My heart flipped in my chest. I wasn’t sure where this was going, but some of the anger bled out of me as I watched him struggle to find the words.
“I’ve made mistakes in the past,” Dante said. “In relationships. So I thought friendship would be easier for us, at least while you were working as my chaperone, and while I was still responsible for getting Liberty Crew back in Hell’s Ankhor’s good graces. But seeing you like this…” He gestured at my black eye. “I can’t fucking stand it.”
He chewed on his lip. We were on the brink of something, I could feel it. I just needed to push a little farther. “What do your past relationships have to do with this?”
Dante sighed, sounding almost defeated. “I move too fast, with the wrong people. I—I want too much. I want you too much.”
For a moment I couldn’t breathe. It didn’t feel real. I swallowed before asking, “What’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t want to screw things up between our clubs,” he said, but his gaze cut to the floor. “I don’t have the luxury of getting careless, or making mistakes—and you can see how well that’s going.”
I blinked hard. “It’s more than that, isn’t it? It’s something else.”
Dante sucked his teeth. “I guess so.”
“You can tell me,” I said, gentle where before I’d been all prickly anger. “I just—I’m just trying to understand.”
Finally Dante met my eyes, and his were a little worried—almost scared. “My last relationship ended… Badly. Messily. He was young”—he pointedly didn’t look at me—“and I thought he was ready to commit. He definitely wasn’t.” He laughed darkly. “He cheated on me—didn’t know what he wanted. And it really fucked with my head, took me a long time to get myself straightened out, back into the leader I need to be.”
He was afraid, I realized suddenly. Afraid that I wasn’t ready, or serious, or willing to commit. Afraid that I didn’t