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it’s
never-ending! I don’t want to be the one who keeps him from his
inheritance, and the letter specifically stated that if he didn’t
propose within a year, his portion would be donated to charity.
    His upper lip tenses just a tad. “Well, I’m
all ears.”
    “I’ve started dating again,” I say point
blank.
    “Well, you’re a smart and beautiful woman.
I’m sure many guys would love to date you.”
    “Spencer and I have a lot in common,” I say.
My wall is growing taller. Stronger. Hell, I can fend him off all
day long if I need to.
    “Really? Tell me about him,” he says.
    I hadn’t expected him to say that. Suddenly
I’m lost and have nothing relevant to say.
    “That much in common, huh?” He smiles.
    “I’m not discussing our relationship with
you.”
    He doesn’t say anything, but just sits there
quietly and stares at me.
    “Stop staring,” I hiss.
    “I can’t stop staring. You’re so fucking
beautiful when you’re mad.”
    My heart misses a beat, and my jaw wants to
fall to the table, but I clamp it shut. Shit! Even his cheesy
smooth-talk, which should be a huge turn off, turns me on.
    “When you’re done with the fling, I’ll still
be here,” he says.
    “It’s not a fling.” Suddenly, I wish my
relationship with Spencer had progressed much further, because then
I could throw it in Michael’s face. Wow, how in the world did I
become so mean and shallow? Hell, Spencer and I don’t even have a
relationship, and there’s no fling there either. And if I were
completely rational right now, I would realize that I don’t want to
use Spencer to get back at Michael in that way. It just isn’t
right.
    “You know just as well as I do that we
belong together,” he says. “When the sun comes up, we should be
together. When the sun goes down we should be in each other’s arms
making sweet love. I should be worshipping your body, making you
come over and over, licking, sucking on, and fucking that sweet
pussy of yours. But it’s not just that, Scarlett. I love you. I don’t know when I started loving you, but what I
do know is that I will never stop.”
    All at once, the room feels very, very hot.
I feel intense heat rush to my cheeks, and the throbbing sensation
builds between my legs, but I look away. I can’t tell whether I’m
reacting this way because I’m angry as hell or if it is because
he’s right. But dammit, I don’t want to let him be right!
    I lean forward. “You’re damn right it was
sweet love. I loved it when you fucked me. Every. Single. Time. I
gave you my heart and soul, Michael. But maybe it’s true what they
say: sometimes love isn’t enough.” And shit, no, no, no! The tears
are coming now. I can’t—I won’t let him see me cry. “Excuse me for
one moment.” I stand up quickly before he can notice, and run to
the ladies room. I lock myself into the handicapped stall, and just
let the tears flow.
    Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe love isn’t
enough. Maybe I need more. He needs more. Maybe we’d just kill each
other slowly, and that’s why this is so difficult. Some people
should never be together because they just make each other
miserable, and we definitely fit into that category. Although, when
we’re good, it is really, really good. I wad up some toilet paper
and blow my nose.
    I just don’t have it in me to try again. I
want a stable life with a stable relationship. Michael and I don’t
even have trust, which is the foundation for any relationship.
There can be love without trust, but there can’t be a safe harbor.
And dammit, I need that right now. I need safe. Warm. Stable. A
friend. Someone more like Spencer.
    I strengthen my resolve to keep Michael at
arm’s length, dry my tears, and return to our table.
    Michael’s salad has arrived, and my coffee
waits for me.
    “Is everything alright?” he asks when he
sees me, rising to his feet.
    “It is,” I say. “So tell me how you’ve
been.”
    “Do you really want to go there?”
    At