need you to be totally fucking honest with me. Do you think you can manage that?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and nods, lowering her eyes.
“Look at me,” I say. “Please.”
Reluctantly, she does as I ask.
“I’m just gonna come out and say it.” I keep my gaze fixed on hers, hoping like hell this is the right call. “Do you… do you love me?”
Eighteen
BAZ
To my surprise, Carly doesn’t laugh or look away, doesn’t tell me how ridiculous I am, doesn’t hit me with any of her patented snark.
She stares at me in uncomfortable silence for so long, I start to worry I broke her.
I’m just about to go check for a pulse when she finally finds her voice again.
“Do you remember when you first came to live with us, and you found me crying in the basement?” she asks.
I nod, frowning at the memory. She kept asking her father to play this X-Box racing game with her, but he kept shooing her away. She missed our first “family” dinner, which was just as well—Charles was on his phone the whole time, and Janelle got piss-drunk, blathering on about how happy she was to finally have another man in the house.
I found Carly after dinner, all alone in the basement rec room, trying to figure out that stupid racing game. All along, I’d always assumed she had it made—two parents, rich, nice house, all of it. But in that moment, she looked so lost and lonely and broken, I could hardly stand it.
Despite the animosity and games between us, part of me will always see her as that sad little girl. And deep down, though I’d never admit it out loud, I’ll always ache for her. Janelle might not have subjected her daughter to the same torments, but that doesn’t mean Carly got off easy. For people who thrive on manipulation, one victim is rarely enough to satisfy their desperate urges.
“You looked heartbroken,” I say softly. “I’ll never forget it.”
“Honestly? I was heartbroken. I had no friends to speak of. My parents were too busy devising ways to hurt each other to bother with me. All I really wanted was someone to play X-Box with.”
“Someone to teach you how to play, more like.” I smile, remembering how terrible she was at that racing game and all the others. “It took months of training to make you an even remotely worthy opponent.”
“Hey!” Carly laughs. “For your information, I totally let you win.”
“Right. Feeling sorry for the orphan, I get it.”
“Something like that.” She crosses over to me and takes my hand, holding it in both of hers. I flinch at first, but I don’t pull away. For once, the gesture doesn’t feel like a scheme, and when she looks up and meets my eyes again, I know that whatever she says next is going to be the truth, whether I’m ready for it or not.
“You asked me if I love you,” she says, “and you wanted honesty. Well, here it is, Baz Redgrave. Yes, I love you. I’ve loved you since that moment in my parents’ basement when you picked up the game controller, sat down on the couch next to me, and asked me what level we were on.”
I don’t know what I expected, but the bare truth of her confession pokes at something soft and tender inside me.
Goddess, I wish I didn’t have to hurt her. For all her bullshit, she really did deserve better. Better from her parents. Better from her friends. Better from me. But she didn’t get that, and I can’t give it to her now either.
“I never meant to hurt you, Carly. I just don’t feel the same way. I—”
“Oh, I’m not done.” She glares at me, squeezing my hand. “I’ve loved you—still love you—as the boy who saved me from loneliness. As the boy who looked out for me even when no one was looking out for him. I loved you as my big brother then, and I love you as my big brother now. Nothing more.”
I gape at her, all the oxygen in the room evaporating, spinning me in circles until it finally sets me upright again.
“I don’t… What?” I ask.
“Okay, you’re obviously having a hard time processing the fact that a woman in your presence doesn’t have romantic feelings for you, so let me spell it out a little more clearly. I love you, but I’m not in love with you, Baz. I’ve never been in love with you.” She smiles up