“Sienna, I’m serious.”
“We’ve already said everything that needed to be said.”
“I haven’t.” He leaned down, the smell of alcohol wafting from his breath. His grip on my arm eased a little. “Please. Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”
My eyes met Noah’s, who watched us from across the crowd, gaze dark and expression hard.
“Please, firefly. Five minutes. You owe me that much.”
I cut a glare up at him. “I don’t owe you shit.”
“Three years, Sienna. Three fucking years. So, five minutes doesn’t seem like too much to ask.”
He was right. We had a history that couldn’t magically be erased.
“Fine.” I snapped, jerking my arm from his grip.
My heart paced, the wild beat pounding all the way up my throat as I walked to a quiet corner in the living room—the smell of freshly polished furniture clinging to the air.
I crossed my arms. “Five minutes.”
“I was kind of hoping—” he glanced around “—for somewhere a little more private.”
“Why? Whatever needs to be said, you can say it to me right here.” Flashes of him pinning me against my bedroom wall cut through my thoughts. The last thing I needed was to be put in that position again.
“Say what you want to say.”
He inched closer, dark eyes swirling with determination. “I want you back, firefly.”
“I already told you—”
“I’m dead serious right now. No jokes. This has gone on long enough.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean bythis?”
“You punishing me like this.”
“Punishing?”
“Yeah. You’re punishing me because of a rumor. A stupid fucking rumor. This is ridiculous and has gone on long enough.”
“I’m not punishing you. I think if anyone is being punished, it’s me. I’m the blind girlfriend, remember? The girlfriend who was oblivious to her boyfriend’s midnight antics with the biggest slut in Atherton.”
“How many times do I have to tell you nothing happened between Beth and me?” He moved so close I could feel his breath on my cheek. “Come on, firefly.” He leaned his head down next to mine, lips brushing against my ear as he placed a hand on my hips. “I want you back. Ineedyou back.” His voice was low, a thrum of desire and seduction.
I reached back, clutching the kitchen counter with my fingers as Oakley leaned into me, bringing his lips an inch from mine. “Let’s kiss and make up.”
“It’s too late,” I murmured, Oakley’s familiar presence draping over me, threatening to pull me back down this dark tunnel of old habits. “It’s too late for us.”
“Don’t say that.” His grip on my hip tightened, fingers biting into my flesh. “It will never be too late for us.”
“Oakley, don’t.”
“I hate to interrupt.” Noah’s voice sliced through my chest, penetrated deep into my bones.
I pulled back from Oakley as he glared at Noah over his shoulder. “If you hate to interrupt, then fuck off.”
Noah’s expression remained calm, collected—amused even as he opened a new beer. “I’d like to have a word with Sienna if you don’t mind.”