Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,114

you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Oh, like that’s going to help your case.” I roll my eyes. “Insult the person you want answers from. Real smart.”

“You’re deflecting,” he points out.

“Am not,” I snap, my voice defensive.

He catches my eyes and I see his have gone soft. “Come on, sunshine.”

His voice is warm, cajoling.

“It’s embarrassing, okay?” I mutter, the words rushing from my mouth too quickly to stop. “She maybe, possibly, equated me to a shiny new toy you’ll use up and throw away as soon as you get bored with me. She basically called me a sex doll. Just not as succinctly.”

An angry sound rattles from Chase’s throat.

“But it doesn’t matter,” I continue, before he’s sent into a rage blackout. “Because Phoebe was there and she totally handled Vanessa. Seriously, it was kind of awesome to witness. Apparently, she caught her in a compromising position at some charity event last ye—”

“Gemma.” His voice is so low, I instantly fall silent.

“Y-yeah?” I stammer, trying to keep my cool as he shifts suddenly, so he’s leaning over me, his eyes trapping mine in an intent stare.

“You believed her.”

“No, I didn’t,” I insist, even though it’s a half-lie.

“You did.” His voice is pissed-off. “You still think this is just about sex for me. Just about the chase. Something to scratch an itch, or keep me amused for a few weeks.”

“I…um…well…” I struggle for words, not knowing what to say to him.

“Fuck, Gemma!” he growls. “You really think that’s all this is for me?”

“Um…No?” I wince at the hesitation in my own voice.

“Christ,” he mutters, falling back against his pillow beside me, his eyes on the ceiling. “If you think that, what the hell are you doing with me?”

“I guess, I just thought…” I press my eyes closed and force myself to say it. “I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never had anyone look at me the way you do, touch me the way you do, take care of me the way you do. I’ve never felt like anyone truly understood me, until you. And I figured, everyone deserves to feel this way, at least once in their life, right? Even if it’s not meant to last. Even if the other person doesn’t feel the same.”

“Sunshine—”

“Look, I know better than anyone that love isn’t always perfectly balanced — it doesn’t break even, doesn’t weigh the scales equally on both sides. Someone always cares more. So, I figure it’s okay if I’m that person, with us. It’s okay, Chase. Just because it’s not perfect, doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

He stares at me.

I try out a smile, but it’s a little shaky. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to freak out or anything, and start stalking you.”

He keeps on staring.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just, well, you asked. And I’m not a very good liar. One time, Chrissy asked me to cover for her with Mark because they were on this couples-diet thing and she was, like, dying, so she snuck off to get some Pink Berry, and when he asked me where she was I told him she was learning to play the ukulele with a—”

“Gemma.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

I huff. “Don’t tell me to shut up, mister— hey!”

My squeal of protest escapes just as Chase grabs me by the shoulders, pins me flat to the bed, and rolls so his entire body is sprawled on top of mine. I try to push him off, but he’s too heavy to budge even an inch.

“Get off!” I complain, squirming futilely. “You’re heavy!”

“You’re the loon.”

“Excuse me?”

“You. You’re the loon, in this relationship. Not me.”

“Am not!”

“Gemma, the amount of nonsensical bullshit you’ve talked yourself into believing in the space of just a few days could set a world record.”

Rude!

“Well, I’m so sure,” I say snottily, glaring up at him.

His eyes narrow. “You’ve got yourself convinced that I don’t care as much as you do, that I’m not as invested in this as you are, and that I don’t feel the same way about you. And all that would be bad enough — but on top of that, you’ve also convinced yourself that it’s somehow okay to feel like that. That it’s not totally fucked up for you to be in a relationship where you’re the only one invested, where the guy doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“Well—”

“I’m talking now.” His voice leaves no room for argument, and my mouth snaps shut. “I know you’ve never done this before, I know you think we’ve got different definitions