Instead, I respond to his question. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”
He doesn’t reply.
I turn back to the window. The truth is, I’m in no mood to see Jack, especially considering the state of my emotions at the moment. Jack had warned me about falling in love with Landon. It had been ridiculous and presumptuous, coming from him, but still, if he caught any inkling that things were not perfect, he would take it as proof that he’d been right.
“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I already told him I would.”
There is another long silence, and I wonder what he’s thinking. I steal a glance at him and catch him looking at me.
“What did Weyland say to you at the Swanson Court, the day we met?”
The question takes me by surprise, and I shake my head, confused. “I don’t think that has anything to do with…”
“Please,” Landon stops me. “Rachel, I’m trying to understand your… relationship with him, and why he keeps coming up between us.”
Us. Such a small word, but at that moment, it almost destroys me. I breathe. “I don’t think it makes any difference…” I stop talking, the intense burn in Landon’s eyes telling me that he won’t stop until I tell him the truth. “He told me he was engaged,” I say quietly.
Landon nods. “You were in love with him.”
It’s a statement, not a question. I don’t reply. I’d thought I was in love with Jack, but I’d been wrong. What I’d felt for Jack at the time was nothing compared to the emotions coursing through me now.
Landon isn’t done. His eyes are still on mine, searching and demanding answers. “Tell me what happened between you two.”
It doesn’t matter, I say silently. It ceased to matter the moment those elevator doors opened, and I saw you standing there. “I met him when I went to work at Gilt. We started seeing each other, and we stopped after about two months,” I shrug. “But we stayed friends.”
“Why did you stop seeing each other?”
“We didn’t want the same things.”
Landon chuckles, but he doesn’t sound or look amused. “You’re being deliberately vague.”
“I told him I was in love with him,” I turn back to the window, escaping the force and beauty of the ey
es trained on me. “He didn’t feel the same way.”
There is another silence from Landon. Is he wondering why I remained friends with Jack after that? Why two years later I was still so into him that I cared that he was getting engaged to someone else. Does it make him think less of me? Not that I should care what he thinks, after all, I’m supposed to be getting over him.
“You told me you were completely over Weyland,” Landon says, his voice low. “Were you being honest?”
If he only knew. I close my eyes, pushing away the pain threatening to engulf me. “There’s really no point in talking about Jack.”
He is silent. I listen to his fingers beat a low, erratic rhythm on the tops of his thighs. “Are you still in love with him?” I hear him say, his voice grave.
I consider saying yes. The idea cycles through my head, and I contemplate what would follow. Landon would walk away. There’s no way he’d keep pursuing me if he thought that I was in love with someone else. He’d let me go, and no matter how miserable that would make me, at least I’d have the space I need to get over him.
But I can’t bring myself to lie to him. There’s something in his eyes. Some emotion that reaches deep inside me and makes me want to remove every single doubt in my mind, to break down every single wall I’ve labored to put up between us. I pull in a shaky breath. “No,” I whisper softly. “I was never in love with him. For a while, I thought I was, but I was mistaken.”
Landon releases a long breath, then he leans towards me, a puzzled frown on his face. “Then why?”
His face is so close to mine that it’s difficult to think. My eyes slip to his lips, and I have a sudden memory of those lips on my skin, tasting, teasing... I swallow. “Why what?”
He covers my hand with his, the touch firm but gentle. I start to tremble, knowing that he only has to keep touching me and I’ll fall to pieces. I try to pull my hand away, but he holds on, bringing his other hand to keep mine between both of his. His next words are tender and probing “Why do you keep pushing me away?”
I try to remember all the reasons, but everything is clouded by my desire to give in, to forget my doubts, to surrender myself to him, for the pleasure…
…and the inevitable pain.
“Because I don’t want this,” I whisper. “I don’t want to be with you.” Not like this, I add silently. Not unless you love me too.