Love After All
Page 82She smoothed her hands over his shoulders. “Bash.”
“Yes.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No. No, Chelsea. I mean, that’s great.”
Wow. Talk about the wrong response. She climbed off of him and he went into the bathroom for a few seconds, but he didn’t come back to bed. Instead, he leaned against the bathroom door, gloriously, beautifully naked.
Whereas she wanted to be fully clothed and preferably out the door. She grabbed the pillow and put it in front of her, needing it as a shield.
“So, you obviously didn’t want me to say those words to you.”
“It’s not that.” He finally pushed off the wall and came over to sit on the side of the bed.
Not on the bed with her. As if she had some communicable disease. God, this was awful. She tossed the pillow aside and scrambled to find her clothes, climbing into them in a hurry.
Bash got dressed, too.
But this wasn’t over. She needed answers, so she sat on the side of the bed next to him while he put on his tennis shoes.
“Bash, what is it? You obviously don’t love me back, and that’s okay. I didn’t expect you to reply.”
“No. I do love you.”
“Of course I’m not. It’s just … Christ, this isn’t going to come out right. I do love you, Chelsea. I was just thinking the other day that I had fallen in love with you.”
He’d realized it the other day. As if it was a bad thing? “But you didn’t say it to me then.”
“I wasn’t ready. I’m not ready. I don’t know, I might never be ready.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. He looked as miserable as she felt.
He couldn’t be as miserable as she felt.
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the sheet.
Something was terribly, terribly wrong. She wanted to find out what it was.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Bash.”
The silence was unnerving when he didn’t respond.
Finally, he did.
“You know, someday you’re going to find that perfect guy, Chelsea. And when you do, he’s going to love to do everything you love to do, and you’re going to love everything about him.”
He finally looked at her. “But that guy can’t be me.”
She stood. “Take me home.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Chelsea …”
“Take me home, Bash. Now.”
He hesitated, then finally nodded, grabbing his keys. She walked out of the bedroom and grabbed her purse, not even pausing to look at Lou, who’d perked up when she walked by. If she stopped to pet Lou, she was going to break down and cry.
She refused to do that. He didn’t deserve to see her tears.
The short ride to her apartment was excruciating. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, so many awful things she wanted to say to Bash. But what was the point?
They were done. She’d told him she loved him, and he’d told her that someday she’d find some other guy who’d love her back.
She was finished with him.
When he pulled up in front of her apartment, he put his truck in park, then turned to her.
“Chelsea …”
She turned her head sharply in his direction.
“You did everything you could to make me fall in love with you, Bash. You pursued me. You teased me. You were sexy and seductive and you wanted this as much as I did. So don’t pretend I was the one who pushed for this, when we both know that’s not how it was. You were there with me—we were in this together—every step of the way. Well, it worked. I fell in love with you.”
She opened the door, grabbed her purse, shut the door, and walked off without looking back. She wouldn’t look back.
She didn’t hear his truck pull away until long after she’d gone inside her apartment and locked the door. She didn’t turn the lights on, just waited until she heard him pull away. Then she went into her bathroom, turned on her shower, climbed inside, and let the water spray over her.
Then she let the tears fall in earnest, and they didn’t stop.
Chapter 36
Bash wiped down the bar until it gleamed—or as much as the beat-up bar could gleam, anyway.
The problem was, he’d already cleaned it four times, along with the rest of the bar. It was still three hours until opening, he was alone, and he needed to stay busy.
Lou sat up on his foot, looking at him with a mournful expression.
Even his dog judged him. Not that he could blame her. It had been six days since he’d let Chelsea walk out of his life. Six days since he’d acted like an utter jackass.
It felt like six days since he’d last slept.
Megan wouldn’t make eye contact with him when he went into her bakery for coffee and baked goods. He’d passed Samantha on the street the other day, and if looks could kill, he’d be a dead man.
Obviously, Chelsea had talked to her friends. And he hadn’t come out of it looking good. Of course he hadn’t, because he’d broken her heart.