Pride and Papercuts (The Austens #5) - Staci Hart Page 0,78
to leave. “You haven’t eaten, have you?”
“I haven’t.” She still eyed me.
“Good. I mean, not good that you’re hungry, but that dinner won’t go to waste.”
Her brows came together in confusion. “Right.”
An awkward pause. “Well, if you want to eat here, I guess I could—”
“Give me my dinner and leave? That would be nice.”
Inwardly, I flinched. Outwardly, I was as stoic as ever.
I set the bag on her desktop and began unwrapping it. With my eyes on my busy hands, I figured it was now or never.
“I’m sorry, Laney.”
“How many times do you think you’ll have to say it until it’s true?”
“I don’t know, but that won’t stop me from trying.”
She was quiet for a beat. “And why is that, exactly?”
“Sometimes I feel like I know the answer to that, and others, I have no idea.” I unpacked the Styrofoam containers of noodles and toppings, stacking them on top of each other. “What I do know is that I can’t seem to stop hurting you. And contrary to what you might think, I don’t actually want to hurt you.”
Again, she was silent, giving me time to line up the meal, chopsticks and all. With that done, I turned to face her and found her expression unreadable, which must have been a feat. Her feelings were typically plain enough to see from space.
“That is very much contrary to what I think,” she said. “In fact, I imagined you notching a whip with a wicked smile on your face every time you successfully ruined someone’s day. Twice, if you ruined mine.”
Anger twisted in me, and I straightened up, agitated at her lack of awareness, her absolute wrongness. The grip on the leash of my self-restraint loosed.
“You have no idea, do you?” The words were hard, sharp, tugging at their tether.
“About what?” she asked cautiously.
A wave of jumbled emotions crashed into me, and for a moment, I looked off, shaking my head, rubbing my mouth.
“Nothing.” I turned to walk away, not trusting myself to speak.
Two steps, and she grabbed me by the elbow. “Stop running away every time things get hard. Tell me what I’m so wrong about.”
“I thought you wanted me to leave.”
“Not until you explain what you meant.” She took two steps back and folded her arms.
And I wasn’t strong enough to resist the challenge.
“You like to think you understand everyone, don’t you? That you can meet a person once and know them. Put them in a labeled box to keep or toss. You love to believe that what you see is who I am, which makes sense—you impose your feelings on everyone who crosses your path and expect them to thank you for it. But not everyone is so free with their feelings. Not everyone says everything that pops into their head the moment they think it. This isn’t me, Laney. This is me around you. You do this to me.”
She jerked back, affronted. “Me? What have I ever done to deserve this?”
The leash snapped. “You drive me insane. You’ve invaded me, invaded my work, my mind, my life, and I’m unable to be rational or patient where you’re concerned. Do you have any idea how little control I have when you’re near me? Against my will, against my reason, against my character, I am inexplicably desperate for you. And you can’t even see it past your pride.” My chest heaved like a bull, the admission hanging between us like a guillotine.
She stared, wide-eyed and blank-faced.
“You can’t be surprised.”
“I can’t?” she asked as she took a step in my direction. “You’ve been nothing but unkind since the moment I first met you, and now you tell me without pretense that you’ve been pining after me?”
“I didn’t say I was pining,” I argued, even though I had been.
“And what gave you the idea that I wanted you?”
I took a challenging step of my own. “Are you saying you don’t?”
Her cheeks flushed, her chin lifting to keep our eyes locked. “You’re maddening.”
“Yes, I know. So are you.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You haven’t answered me.” Another step, and the space between us disappeared. Everything was electric—the beat of my heart, the skin of my fingertips, the webs of nerves on my lips.
“Because it’s ridiculous,” she said softly, as if trying to convince herself.
“Is it?”
“Ludicrous.”
“I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all,” I said, inching closer, stopping only when I was close enough to feel her breath. “Especially not when it comes to how I feel about you. You set me on fire. I’m tortured by thoughts