If the Sun Never Sets (If Love 2)

“You’ll drink yourself to death.”

Blake shrugged.

Frustration curled in her gut. “What happened in Texas?”

“What makes you think something happened in Texas?”

“You left as your normal self and you came back—” Farrah stopped before she said something that’d put him on the defensive. “Is it your dad? Did he say something?”

“It’s not my fucking dad.” Blake’s eyes sparked. Finally, a hint of life. “He’s the least of my problems.”

“Then what is it?” she asked softly.

“None of your business.” His jaw clenched. “I mean it. Leave now.”

Her chin angled at a stubborn tilt. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Dammit, Farrah.” Frustration leaked into Blake’s voice and broke his icy facade. “Stop being so stubborn. This is for your own good.”

Indignation sparked in her chest. “Then stop treating me like a child. Tell me what’s going on and let me decide for myself. I’m a grown woman. I can decide what’s good for me or not.”

“Fine. You want to know what happened in Texas?” Blake closed the distance between them, and Farrah gulped at the sheer pain radiating from him. She wanted to grab him, press him tight to her chest, and never let go. Not until that pain disappeared. “I realized you were smart not to trust me.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “You never should’ve accepted my job offer, even though I insisted. You should’ve taken one look at me that day at The Aviary and walked the hell away.”

A vice wrapped around her throat and squeezed. This conversation wouldn’t end well. Farrah could feel it in her bones. But there was no way to go but forward, even if it meant falling off the cliff. “Why?”

“Because I’m not a good person. I’m a selfish bastard, Farrah, and when I want something, I’ll stop at nothing to get it.” Blake’s eyes brewed with regret. “I wanted you, more than anything, and I pursued you, even though I knew I didn’t deserve you. Even though I knew I’d hurt you one day. So, this is your chance to leave before that happens.”

Too late. He was already hurting her, slicing her open piece by piece. With his words, with his bitterness, with his belief that he wasn’t good enough.

This was the part of Blake most people didn’t see. On the surface, he was confident and self-assured, but underneath the polished veneer lived a boy filled with doubts and insecurities, who was afraid he’d never be able to live up to the expectations the world had of him.

Farrah loved both parts equally—if he would let her.

“You’re a good person to me,” she whispered.

“For now.” Blake rested his forehead against hers, his face taut with torment. “You don’t know the thoughts that run through my head. The things I’ve done. I always end up hurting the people I love, and the scary part is, I almost never do it on purpose. It just happens. Walk away from me now, Farrah, before you’re in too deep, and I break your heart again.”

The backs of Farrah’s eyes burned. “You say I don’t know the thoughts that run through your head? Tell me. You say I don’t know the things you’ve done? Show me. Let me in, Blake. Don’t push me away.”

A frustrated groan rose in his throat.

Blake wrenched away; his warmth disappeared, and merciless cold rushed to fill the void. Its icy needles stabbed at Farrah’s skin until they pierced all the way to her heart.

“I can’t.” The emotionless mask was back.

“You said you loved me.” Farrah gave it one last shot. “You were the one who asked for a second chance—and I gave you one. You said you’d changed, and I believed you. You want me to trust you again—but how can I do that when you yourself don’t trust me enough to let me in?” Her gaze drilled into Blake’s, willing him to back down, to open up, to do anything except stare at her with those vacant eyes. “Blake, it’s me. You can tell me anything.”

The seconds ticked by.

Farrah’s breath stuck halfway down her throat, unsure where to go given the apprehension gathering storm in the air.

“I do love you.” Blake’s voice cracked. “That’s why I’m letting you go.”

The breath released as a sob.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She should’ve known better, but she did it anyway.