“No.”
“What?”
“Rae, let me get this out.”
Impatience leaped in her gaze, but she tamped it down. “Fine . . . but I have no idea where you’re going with this.”
“I spent high school tortured by one obsession—making love to you,” he clarified, picking up the pace, needing for her to understand before the emotion thundering through him brought him to a standstill. “I was convinced that if we were intimate, you’d be mine forever. Sex would give me the guarantee I was seeking. I never entertained a minute’s doubt. I was sure of it. From an adult perspective, I realize how dewy-eyed that sounds. People get laid all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“For some people.” Rae withered him with a look. “Take me off the roster, pal. I’m of the opinion that jumping into bed with your lover should mean something.”
“I agree—and stop pulling me off track,” he snapped, getting to the heart of the matter. “I had lust on the brain—and my sister knew I was going to do something stupid. Sally read me the riot act in about ten different ways. Then she made me promise not to put the moves on you until I was . . .”
Why didn’t I give Rae the shorter version?
“Until you were . . . what?” She was going to make him say it aloud.
Fine. He was a tortoise. But he knew how to leap.
“Until I was old enough to pop the question.”
Merriment played with Rae’s lips, but her eyes were sad. She wanted to make light of his snap confession. Fluff it off. She didn’t quite succeed.
“If you’d gone down on bended knee, Everett would’ve pitched a fit. I can’t even imagine. Your father would’ve grounded you permanently.”
A thoughtful expression eclipsed the merriment. She was listening to him fully now.
It helped Griffin plow through the difficult parts. “My father’s opinion didn’t matter—not after the White Hurricane, and Hester died. When you lost your mother, I threw my common sense out the window. My decency too, Rae. I became the guy who only cared about scoring with his girlfriend.”
“That’s all you thought about?” The hurt she tried to contain bloomed quickly across her face.
“I should’ve been your stand-up guy,” he said hoarsely. “The one you could lean on. I should’ve been your friend, and—”
“All right, Griffin. Stop.”
But he couldn’t, not yet. Not until he’d laid his emotions bare. “When you broke up with me, I knew I’d pushed you past your limits.” Swallowing down his pride, he added, “I knew I deserved to lose you.”
“Stop.” Pain fissured across her mouth. “I get it.”
Eyes lowered, Rae stepped back, retreating to the picture window. The snow was coming down harder now. Sheets of white burying the landscape until nothing was discernable.
“It’s all right,” she murmured. “All things considered, I suppose we’re even. I never explained why I broke up.”
“I’m not asking. It doesn’t matter now.”
“I can tell you that I blamed you. Like you’d betrayed me.”
“I did.”
“No, Griffin. That’s not what I mean. Everything that happened . . . it wasn’t your fault.”
Lost in her own counsel, Rae pressed her nose to the glass. As if she was searching the night for answers she’d never find. Answers that Griffin, in his private agony, knew they’d lost years ago.
“I’m such a dope.” From over her shoulder, she regarded him. “I spent years believing you were responsible. Griffin, I wasn’t an angel. I wanted you too. That night when we were supposed to meet behind the post office . . . it was supposed to be our first night. I was ready to sleep with you too.”
“You were?” He’d never been sure. Assumed she’d changed her mind.
She nodded. “Why didn’t you show up?”
The question startled him. “I did. You weren’t there, Rae. I drove around the parking lot for half an hour, wondering if you’d driven to the wrong place.”
“No, I was there . . . you were late.”
“You were waiting for me?” Confused, he sensed an undercurrent. Something Rae wasn’t telling him.
Had decided not to tell him.
What right did he have to press? He’d said his piece. Getting the confession off his chest didn’t make him feel better, especially with the undercurrent rushing faster now between them.