you don’t leave, I’ll have to call the police.”
The back of Scott’s head fills the view as he turns to face her. “I’m really hoping it doesn’t come to that.” He turns back and knocks again. “El? You don’t want me to get arrested, do you?”
“Well, don’t say that I didn’t warn you,” she says indignantly.
Oh shit. I quickly unhook my own safety chain and turn the deadbolt. “It’s okay, Mrs. Stanfield. I didn’t hear him knocking.”
The half of my neighbor’s face that’s visible through the six inch gap shows her suspicion. “You’re sure, Piper?” she asks with what almost sounds like concern.
“Yes, thank you so much for looking out for me.”
The old lady harrumphs and bangs her door shut.
I finally bring myself to look at Scott and the anxiety in my stomach pulls lower and starts to heat. “What are you doing here?” I mean it to be an angry hiss but it comes out more like a pathetic whisper.
His big brown eyes swirl with entreaty. “I only want to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say, dropping my gaze so I won’t be swayed by the look on his face.
“Yes, there is.”
My shoulders sag. There’s only two reasons he could be here. One, he’s sorry and he wants a second chance, or, more likely, two, he’s here to assuage his conscience. Either way, I’m not interested.
He takes my momentary silence for uncertainty because he goes on, drawing my eyes back up. “If you don’t like what I have to say, you can throw me out.” His lips twitch into a sad, fleeting grin. “Please, I only need five minutes.”
Trying to ignore the ache in my heart at his apparent sincerity, I wonder if he’ll show up again if I deny him this chance. I step back to let him in. “Okay,” I whisper. “But FYI, I’m not sleeping with you.”
His palms come up in surrender. “No, of course not, I mean, I wouldn’t . . .”
With a frown on my face, I lead him into the kitchen. Is he nervous? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Scott nervous. It’s almost as if he has something to lose. The idea does little to shore up my resolve as we square off at either end of the island.
For a long minute he doesn’t say anything and I fiddle with my phone on the counter to avoid looking at him.
“I was a dick,” he announces like it’s news.
“Yes, you were.”
“I want to apologize.”
Irritation chips away at my patience. “We’ve already had this conversation.”
“It got cut short. And I’ve still got four minutes left.”
His tone has my hackles rising. “Fine. I’m listening.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t call,” he says earnestly. “I panicked. Because you were right when you said it was good between us.”
He has got to be kidding me. “You blew me off – after you fucked me – because it was good between us?”
“Yes,” he says, maddeningly meeting my sarcasm with calm equanimity. “And we didn’t fuck, and you know it.”
“Well, I’d hate to see how you treat the women you do fuck, because you left me feeling like trash.”
He winces. “I was selfish. I admit it. But you have to know that I didn’t intentionally hurt you.”
I scoff. “Not intentionally because I didn’t figure into your thinking at all.” I turn away, sighing heavily. “Why are you here, Scott?”
“I want to make things right between us, El. I’ve been miserable.”
“Is that right?” My irritation boils over. “You’ve been miserable? You’re not just selfish, Scott, you’re a complete narcissist. You have a family to go home to. You have children who love you. You have friends. You have –”
“I don’t have you.”
That damned knife is re-plunged into my chest, trying to rob me of the breath that I need to get rid of this guy. “Which is the way you wanted it,” I remind him with as much force as I can muster. “You told me so from the very beginning.”
“Don’t pretend that things haven’t changed.”
I close my eyes against the throbbing ache in my chest. “They haven’t changed enough, Scott. I can’t be your . . .” my mind searches for the right word, “. . . your whatever girl, the one you call up when you’ve got nothing better to do.”
“That’s good. Because I don’t want that either.”
“Oh, really? What is it you want then? What is it that you’re envisioning for us?”
“I don’t know. I –”
“You don’t know?” I mock.
“Let me finish,” he grits out, his fist