When he puts it like that, I get his point, but my stubborn side doesn’t want to admit it. Instead, I pick at my nail polish, watching it flake away onto the floor.
“Miranda’s still blackmailing me. I thought I came up with a plan, but it turned out to be pretty half-baked and a lot harder than I thought.”
“What was it?”
“It’s why I ended things with you, or whatever you want to call it. I thought if we weren’t together anymore then she’d have nothing to hold over my head.”
“Seriously!?” I screech. Dammit. How did I not see that coming? “You could’ve at least told me so I would understand and play along. As it stands now, nothing’s changed. She can still blackmail you.” I motion to the fact that I am indeed still here in his place and giving Miranda the ammo she needs.
“Right, but I have a plan B and I have a feeling this one is going to work out a hell of a lot better than plan A.” I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t offer up anything else. He just watches me and holds my hands, rubbing his thumbs over the back of my palms. His hazel eyes glisten as he gazes into mine and I have to look away from the intensity of it all.
“Are you going to fill me in on this plan?”
“Eventually, but for now, I don’t want to waste any more time pretending. I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, Flynn. I want to be with you. I’ve been all in since the night I met you,” he eyes me, crinkling his nose. “Don’t leave just because I said something corny.” I throw my head back on a laugh. “Why don’t you stay here? With everything you’re dealing with at home it just makes sense. And…I like having you at my disposal,” he winks.
I try to contain my smile, waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under me. He really is…good. “What are you saying?”
“What I’m saying, Flynn, is that I’m in love with you.”
Twenty-Three
Flynn
“Don’t freak out.”
Don’t freak out. As if he asked me to pass the parmesan cheese and didn’t declare his love for me. Not long ago, we were in his office as he explained to me my own commitment issues and now he expects me not to freak out?
I take a deep breath, tying to do what he asked. I need to think about this logically and not let my haywire emotions control me for once.
From the moment I met Liam Whitmore, I was a fucking goner. Anyone could see that. I’ve been hooked on him like I’ve never latched onto anyone before. He put a spell on me from that first night and I’ve been bewitched ever since. Apparently I’m a fucking sad sap now too.
But our…relationship is a bit more complicated than normal. Stating the obvious first, he’s my fucking therapist. Only for a few more court-appointed weeks, but still. Then there’s the fact he’s been so hot and cold with me for the entirety of the time I’ve known him.
Then again, can I blame him? I mean, going back to bullet point numero uno, I’m his goddamn patient. Of course he’s spooked.
Taking into account our age difference, I could fall into a rabbit hole of all the reasons we wouldn’t work out and therefore shouldn’t even bother.
I mean, I’m a dependent, highly erratic kid, basically. Sure, to him right now, I’m young and sexy and willing to do things in the bedroom he probably hasn’t even heard of. But I’m surface level. He’s just going to get bored of me, because all people do. Why else would I refrain from relationships altogether? If people don’t get to know me, the real me underneath the hard exterior, then they can’t hate me. The revelation comes out of nowhere and my eyes jerk up to meet his. “I have a deeply harbored desire to be liked.”
“Okay.” His brows furrow. I’m sure that’s not the response he was looking for after telling me he loved me. A shiver runs up my spine as the words penetrate the ice surrounding my heart. They’re a flame, melting me from the inside out.
“It just kind of came to me. Just now. After you said…what you said. I think it’s part of the reason I keep everyone at arms’ length. If no one gets under my skin, if no one gets me, there’s no getting hurt. They won’t leave me once they find out I’m nothing special. I’m just a rich girl with material, surface-level problems to match my surface-level personality. There’s no depth here. Just like my friends said.”
“Your friends said that to you?” I shrug. “Flynn, you’re the most complex person I’ve ever met. I can never get inside your head to know what you’re thinking and feeling. I do believe you keep everyone at bay to protect yourself, but it’s not because people wouldn’t love you. You’re funny and smarter than you give yourself credit for. You can be kind, but you’re stubborn and stuck in your cynical, sarcastic ways. You don’t want people to look at you weird if you give them a compliment or tell someone you love them because they would since it’s so out of place for you. People flock to you, Flynn. I see it. Your friends, they’re jealous. They try to knock you down a peg because they want what you have: the perfect family, money,
