He nods, putting his hands into his pockets, as he walks closer to me. “I know.”
I take a step back. I don’t want him anywhere near me.
“I’m sorry.”
I pause at his words before walking backward, and he takes another step forward, gaining on me.
“You aren’t capable of being sorry. At least, not toward me.”
He nods. “You’re right. I probably don’t deserve your forgiveness, but does it make you feel any better to know that the past two hours have just been me goading you, trying to get you to break, so that I could prove to you that I’m still capable of hurting you?”
“No, it doesn’t make me feel any better that you purposefully hurt me to prove a point.”
He bites his lip, and I find myself staring far too intently at his damn lips. How can I find a man I hate so sexy? It shouldn’t be possible.
He takes another step toward me until he’s only a foot away from me. “I needed to know.”
“Why?” I throw my hands up. “Why did you need to know that you could still hurt me?”
He reaches his hand out and lightly touches me on my bottom lip. “Because, believe it or not, I care about you.”
I laugh. “You can’t care about me. It’s not possible.”
His hand goes to the back of my neck before I realize what he is doing. He pulls me hard toward him. Our lips crash together in a hungry kiss. My eyes close the second our lips touch. My hands wrap around his neck, and my body responds to his. The kiss makes me forget about all the pain he’s caused me. It makes me want him. It makes me ache for him. He takes complete control over my body with just one single kiss.
“No,” I say, pushing him away from me. “I won’t let you control me. You don’t get to just kiss me and make everything better.”
“How am I controlling you if this is what you want?”
“You think I want this?” I motion between us.
“I know you do. You can’t kiss me like that and not want this.”
I laugh. “I can. You can kiss me a million times, and I will never want anything more. There is nothing you can do to make up for the past. Nothing.”
He narrows his eyes. “Even this?”
He scoops me back into his arms and kisses me again. My breathing stops as he kisses me. His tongue pushes deep into my mouth, begging me to let go of our past. To let him in.
I shouldn’t. I know that, if I do, nothing but pain will follow. But, with his hand tangled in my hair, my body in his arms, his lips kissing me like I’ve wanted him to since the second I saw him again, I forget about the pain.
He gently pulls away, looking deep into my eyes, now asking for permission for a kiss that he just took from me again.
I slap him across the face again, but he doesn’t let go of me. He just holds me tighter.
“I’m not yours. You don’t get to control me. No one controls me.”
I push his arms off of me, and I start walking down the sidewalk again although not as fast as before. I need to get out of here before I agree to do something stupid that would only leave me more broken than ever before.
He runs after me until he catches up with me. I expect him to grab my arm again and force me to stop, but he doesn’t. He just walks next to me. Maybe he’s tired of getting slapped.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough.”
“Why not? I know you want this as much as I do. I’m not saying that you should marry me. Just give me a clean slate to start over. Let me take you on a date. Let me fuck you. Give me a chance.”
“You want to date me? Seriously?”