Kiss Me at Midnight(20)
Author: Diane Alberts

“You could move here and get over the feeling that everyone here is laughing at you,” she suggested. “Then Sammy wouldn’t have to move.”

“It’s not a feeling.” He set his glass down hard. “It’s the truth.”

“Puh-lease.” She rolled her eyes. “No one even remembers the boy you were once they see you now. Trust me.”

“Yeah, they do.” He leaned back in his chair, not touching the food he said he so loved. “They see the same boy who stuttered his way through childhood. They see the boy who they shoved into lockers for fun. They see the boy they kicked and hit and threw around. That’s all they see, and it’s all I’ll ever be here. Why the hell would I want to come back?”

Her heart broke for the boy he’d been…but he wasn’t that boy now. Not anymore. “I think you’re the one who doesn’t see the man you are. Not the other way around.”

“You’re wrong. When I’m here, that’s what they see. It’s who I am.” He pushed back from the table and stood up, pacing in front of her. “This town is full of ass**les who spent their childhood torturing me.”

Ashley pressed her lips together. “Not all of us are. But I’m not here to argue with you or change your mind.”

“You just don’t see it, is all.” He shrugged. “I don’t even mind it, in small doses. But moving here? Hell no. Besides, I have a great job in California. I can’t just walk away from that.”

“You could start over if you wanted to. Show them—”

“I already started over in California.” He caught her gaze, seeming to try to make her understand. And she did, to an extent. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t miss him once he left, damn it. “Out there, I’m just a guy who does a damn fine job at his career. One who is successful and kind and a bit of a loner by choice. It’s who I am now…but not when I’m here. When I’m here, I’m still that small boy who no one liked. And I’m really f**king tired of having to prove myself over and over and over.”

She stood up, too. “I liked you back then. I wanted you to stay.”

He froze, his eyes meeting hers. The vulnerability in them, the sadness, hit her in the heart a lot harder than she would have ever thought possible. “I know. But you liking me when we were kids isn’t enough. It’s not enough to make me come back h-here.”

She flinched. She couldn’t help it. The truth hurt. The truth was a bitch.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry, but I need more out of life than that.”

He watched her, as if he waited for her to say something. So she did. “Well, at least I can Facebook stalk you now, right?”

He laughed, but it sounded forced. “You could even go so far as to friend me. I just might approve you.”

She smiled but didn’t feel it. He didn’t need to know how much it hurt her to let him go. To watch him walk away again. At least this time she would get a goodbye, though. “If you don’t, I’ll kick your ass. But it’s for the best, anyway. You leaving. It’s not like this would work.”

He crossed his arms, the vulnerability she’d seen earlier fading away with a blink of his eyes, and shifted on his feet. “As if what would work?”

“Us.” She moved her finger back and forth between them. “This.”

His jaw flexed, and his nostrils flared. “We’re friends. Beyond that, we were just an extended one-night stand.” His voice was hard. “Just like you wanted. Like I wanted.”

She nodded, even though she wanted nothing more than to scream at him for making her feel as if they didn’t have anything between them when she knew they did.

“Exactly.” She sat back down. “Are you going to sit back down and eat? Or are you going to run away again?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s your thing.” She shrugged. “You run. I get it. I tend to push people away until they run, so we make a good team.”

He sat down and picked up his fork. “I’m not f**king running anywhere.”

She raised a brow but didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to.

He was running…he just hadn’t left yet.

…

Ethan swallowed the bite of meatball, but he didn’t even taste it. This whole thing was becoming a big, f**king mess. This weekend was supposed to be a carefree fling with a woman he used to care for, but now she was looking at him as if she wanted more.

And he wasn’t sure he had more to give.

He knew what he wanted out of life, and living in Rehoboth Beach wasn’t it. As a matter of fact, it might be the last thing on this world he wanted out of life. There was nothing to be done for it.

She didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want to stay. If that wasn’t answer enough as to how this weekend would end, then he was a pink-footed elephant with wings.

She took another bite and watched him closely, her face calm and impassive. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He took another sip of wine. He had a feeling he was going to need it by the time she opened her mouth, from the way this night had been going so far. “Go for it.”

She set her fork down. “Why don’t you ever want to get married?”

“I don’t want kids.” He tightened his hand on his fork. “Wives want kids.”

“Why don’t you want kids anymore?” she asked softly, her eyes on him. “You wanted them before. When we were kids.”

“Exactly. When I was a kid myself. I didn’t know what I wanted any more than you did.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “And if you must know, I don’t want kids because I don’t want to watch my child go through what I went through and not be able to change it.”

She sucked in a deep breath and reared back, her mouth in a perfect O shape. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

She shook her head and grabbed her wineglass with a trembling hand. “That’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard. You’d be an excellent father, and I’m sure you could handle the bullying and tears, if it came to that.”

He fisted his hands in his lap. It might sound sad to her, but it’s how he’d planned his life. And he wasn’t changing it just because she thought he could be better than he thought. It’s not as if she was going to be in his life. No, she hadn’t given any indication of wanting that at all.