She lowered her head and pressed her forehead to his shoulder with a groan. “You are such a therapist sometimes.”
“I’m not a therapist yet. I just play one this weekend.”
She lifted her head and gave him a look. “Don’t do that. You help people. You just have a different title.”
He lifted a brow and released her hands. “Says the lady who once told me I was just a hired dick with a certification.”
Her mouth dipped into a frown. “I’m sorry I ever said those things to you. I was wrong. If you haven’t noticed, I have an uncanny habit of saying the most damaging things possible when I see someone as a threat.”
The words weren’t what he expected. No pretense, no excuses, just the bald truth. “Why was I threat?”
She shrugged but her gaze slid away. “Because you’re everything I’m not. Fun. Social. Well-liked. You’re everything I try to avoid. Someone who’s easy to get attached to, someone who, by definition of his job, can’t be faithful. But…I wanted you anyway. Even when I knew it wasn’t good for either of us. Even now, when I know I can’t fix the situation or offer you what you deserve. You still make me…wish things were different, wish I was different.”
His breath gusted out of him.
“We’re going to be late.” She stepped past him and went to the bed to get her purse and slip on her shoes, putting her back to him.
He closed the distance between them and put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened beneath his touch and he dropped his arm to his side. But she turned around to face him, her expression closed off.
He sighed. “Doc, you realize that I never wanted you different, right? Who you are was always what drew me back to you. I like how determined and tough you are. I like that you don’t take any bullshit and push back. I like that your kink is my kink. I like you because you’re different.”
A muscle in her cheek twitched, her eyes flashing with an emotion that had escaped her fortress.
“We’re not rolling around in that bed right now because I don’t fit into your mold of who you wish I’d be, not the other way around.”
She winced. “I’ve never asked you to change.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said softly. “Hiding our relationship told me all I needed to know.”
She blinked, a stark sadness coming over her face. “Lane…”
“We better go,” he said stiffly. “If we walk in late, you’ll have even more eyes on you.”
He didn’t wait for her response. He grabbed the keys off the nightstand and headed out the door. He couldn’t have this conversation right now. It hurt too much. It tempted him to go against his personal code, to accept her terms, to be with her in secret so he didn’t have to walk away from her after this weekend.
But he’d spent the first part of his life accepting scraps. Scraps of attention. Scraps of affection. Used only when needed.
He couldn’t do it again.
Even for her.
Chapter 19
Elle stood in the back of the courtyard, holding a thick book of Shakespeare her mother had asked her to carry in and trying to look unperturbed but feeling like a swarm of bees had set up shop in her chest.
The cobblestone courtyard outside Hotel Bienville had been draped with vintage string lights, the burning bulbs artfully arranged to illuminate all the go
rgeous flowers and statuary. It looked elegant and old-fashioned and magical—like the event could be taking place in a different era or on the cover of a book. She’d thought the same thing when she’d chosen it for her wedding ceremony, but Henry had nixed the idea immediately. His mother had insisted they marry in the family’s preferred church. He’d told her he believed in saying his vows in front of God, so she’d relented, respecting his beliefs.
But apparently he’d changed his stance on that, because his new wedding was going to be in this courtyard garden. Or maybe his church frowned upon lying, cheating bastards and he couldn’t get a spot. If so, maybe Elle needed to take up religion because she’d sing a hallelujah for that. But of course Henry and Nina would pick this place to get married. It was breathtaking. Who cared if it was the same place Elle had wanted? Nina may not even know that detail, but Henry sure did.
He’d take pleasure in taking that away from her, in needling her. How she’d ever let herself love a man like that, she didn’t know. Her past self had been skilled in making horrible decisions. She wasn’t sure her present self had gotten much better.
She took a deep, steadying breath and let her eyes travel to the back of a blond head in the third row of chairs—Lane, sitting casually and talking to another guest. Her stomach tightened into a fist.
He’d been cordial on the drive over, their conversation from the bedroom closed, but the feelings lingered in her like the aftereffects of a camera flash, setting her off balance and altering how she saw things. I like you because you’re different.
She’d known she’d hurt him by hiding their relationship. He’d made that clear before. But she’d convinced herself that she was doing him a favor. He didn’t need someone in his life who had her temper or her hardheadedness. She could be a complete pain in the ass and didn’t want to change that. But he’d yanked her reasons right out from under her.