My appetite becomes nonexistent, even for coffee. “That’s what Jay said too.”
“I’m not lying. He wasn’t either.”
I shrug. “It’s really none of my business what you do with people, Easton. We didn’t make any rules when we started sleeping together. It would have made things easier in case you wanted to—”
“I didn’t want to,” he cuts me off. He grips the fork in one hand and rubs the back of his hand with another. “Look, I’m not good at this. The talking thing. The feelings thing. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should have talked about things when we started having sex regularly, but I didn’t think it mattered.”
I cringe.
He grumbles. “I mean I didn’t think you were interested in anybody else. I sure as hell haven’t been. Yeah, I get why you think I was hooking up with chicks on the side, but I wasn’t. It was only ever you, Piper. It’s only you.”
Lips parting, I fumble to formulate a response to that. It’s only you. Present tense. As in, he still thinks that. “What exactly are you trying to tell me? Jenna said… and Jay…” I shake my head and rub my temples. “You never acted like you wanted more with me. You’d leave every single night and you were hot and cold about, well, everything. You barely talk to me, you never want to have conversations about your past, it’s like you never wanted me to know you as anything more than your roommate.”
He grinds his teeth. “That isn’t true.”
I throw back, “It’s not?”
“I…” Straightening, he sets his fork down and blows out a breath. “I got you flowers.”
Confusion sweeps through me. “What? When did you…?” My words die down when I look at the empty vase by the sink where my Valentine flowers were. I swallow. “You said they weren’t from you. That you had no idea what I was talking about when you sent them.”
“I lied.”
Scoffing, I process those two words. “I don’t even know what to say right now. Why would you lie about that?”
He stares at his eggs. “Piper, I already admitted I’m not good at this.”
“Try,” I grind out.
His shoulders tense as he looks up at me through thick lashes. “We started out having sex because we were using each other. You wanted an escape, so did I. But then it stopped being about distracting myself. I thought you were feeling the same way until you said the flowers were probably from Professor Lover Boy.”
I throw my hands up. “Because you said they weren’t from you. Which, by the way, I felt so stupid for assuming.” I take a moment and absorb what he called Carter. “Did you really just refer to him as Professor Lover Boy?”
He ignores my question. “I didn’t know you were even talking to anybody else. Like you said, we never agreed to be exclusive. I figured if you were interested in somebody else, who the hell was I to stop you?”
“You were rude to me about him,” I accuse coolly, crossing my arms. “You made awful comments that weren’t even accurate at the time. I get that you probably think I’m easy for being fine with casual sex and for getting involved with my professor, but it wasn’t like that. I’m not like that.”
His eyes darken instantly. “I never called you that. You’re not easy.”
“No, I’m just a taste of crazy. Right?”
His nostrils flare. “I was out of line and I’m sorry. If I didn’t care so much, I wouldn’t even think twice about you sleeping around. But I do. I fucking care a lot and it tortures me knowing you’re going out and having fun with somebody who isn’t me.” He slaps a palm against his chest. “I want to take you on dates. I want to make you laugh. I want to be there for you when you’re upset. Me. Not him. Not anybody else.”
All I can do is stare as he lowers his hand, now forming a closed fist, to his lap and shakes his head. His breathing evens out as he stares at his food. Both of our breakfasts are left untouched as we hash this out.
“I have a lot of problems,” he tells me so quietly, so brokenly, that I can barely hear him speak. “They stem from being in the system my whole life. I’ll always have them. I’m not good at talking because it became survival for me not to. Not talking meant not being beaten. It meant