More Than Protect You (More Than Words #6.5) - Shayla Black Page 0,63
scowls. “She said she doesn’t want you. It’s time for you to leave.”
I turn to Mandy. “Baby?”
“You should go. Find someone who hasn’t already had her heart broken.” Then she lifts her chin, and I feel the invisible wall she erects between us. “Twice.”
Fuck if that doesn’t hurt.
“Mandy…”
“It’s Amanda now. Goodbye. I’ll make sure you get compensated for your time because I keep my promises.”
Ouch. “I don’t want your money.”
She shrugs. “I’m still going to make sure you get it. Look on the bright side. At least we know there’s no one on the island out to hurt me.”
I’m relieved by that but… “So you’re not even going to give us a chance?”
“Tanner, I found myself falling for you too hard and too fast. But one thing I know: if you’re not with me, you can’t hurt me.”
“I also can’t comfort, love, or protect you. I can’t be that man you’ve always wanted.” Every word hurts so fucking bad. “But maybe that’s all right since you’ve decided not to be the brave, ballsy woman I know you can be. Oh, and in case you thought I was nothing but a mercenary prick”—I yank out the check Bruce stuffed in my pocket and tear it until it’s confetti—“I’m not. Goodbye.”
Chapter Eleven
The next day, I’m awakened just like I was three days ago—by my cell phone chiming a lousy breakup song I’ve assigned as my ex’s ringtone. But this time it’s not Bon Jovi warning me that Ellie is up in my business. Gwen Stefani voicing No Doubt’s “Don’t Speak” tells me it’s Mandy calling.
Excuse me, Amanda.
She told me to take a hike less than twelve hours ago, and I assigned her that tune because it honestly felt like she didn’t want to hear me. Or couldn’t. Not a single word I said. She listened to her fear, not to the man who wanted to love her for life. And I lost. So what does she want now that we’re over?
I almost don’t answer until I hear a groan on the other side of the small apartment. “Are you going to get that or just let it wake me up again?”
Shit. It’s Joe. I banged on his door when I left the villa and asked to crash on his sofa for the night. He must have seen how messed up I was. If my mood didn’t tell him, the bottle in my fist—which I proceeded to drain—surely clued him in.
“Sorry.” I sit up and reach for my phone to silence it. And I instantly regret it. My head hurts like a bitch.
“Answer it already. Whoever that is has called three times in ten minutes.”
She has? Apparently, and I didn’t hear it.
“All right. Sorry. Go back to sleep.” I creep from the sofa, grateful I’m wearing my shorts, then head out to the balcony, phone in hand, squinting against the morning light. As soon as I shut the door behind me, I answer the call. “Are you in danger?”
“N-no. Tanner, I—”
“Are you all right?”
“Physically, yes, but—”
“Then we don’t have anything else to say. You made yourself pretty clear last night.”
“Actually, I didn’t,” she says softly. “Would you come by the villa this morning? Please.”
I tense. My head pounds unmercifully. I don’t dare get my hopes up. “Why?”
“I just want to talk. Ten minutes. I won’t keep you longer than that.”
On the one hand, I don’t want to give her the opportunity to hurt me again. I told her I loved her and I meant it. Despite everything between us, she didn’t choose me. Hell, she didn’t even bat an eye when I said the words. On the other hand…I want to see her so fucking badly, even if it’s going to hurt like hell. I doubt she’ll realize she’s made a mistake, but that doesn’t change how greedy I am to lay eyes on her.
“Looking to rip my heart out again?”
“That’s not it at all. I promise.”
God, I feel like such a sucker. “Fine. I’ll be there in thirty.”
“Thank you.” She sounds so earnest. “Really. You won’t regret it.”
I already do, but for some fucking reason I still love her too much to refuse. I don’t say anything, though. I just hang up and stride back into the apartment.
Joe is standing there, waiting in a ratty blue terrycloth bathrobe. “You less miserable now?”
I rub at my aching forehead, but nothing is putting a dent in this hangover. “Not really.”
“That Amanda?”
How much did I tell him last night? Honestly, I don’t remember a lot