Glancing up from the Wall Street Journal, Vin countered with, “We’re really going to have this conversation now?”
“Well, my lip’s pretty much healed, so I think I can handle a rematch. Though … I do owe you.”
“If the mood strikes, be sure to hit me in the gut. Don’t mess up this perfect face of mine.”
Rogen let out a hearty laugh, despite the tension created by the touchy subject matter—his question regarding Jewel. “A black eye would be a huge improvement. Trust me.”
Vin scowled.
Rogen said, “Seriously, man. Are you?”
With a sigh, Vin set aside WSJ. His jaw clenched briefly as he seemed to contemplate what he did or didn’t want to divulge. Then offered, “For a while, after your e-mail, I thought I hated her. I honestly didn’t see the betrayal coming. I guess because of all the plans we’d made. Her trip to Trinity was shitty timing and … I don’t know.” He blew
out a puff of air. “As much stock as she’d put into prom and our future, so had I. There was a … Oh, fuck.”
He slid from his stool and stepped away from the breakfast bar. Turned his back on Rogen and poured more coffee from the stainless-steel carafe.
Rogen’s stomach twisted. Intuition kicked in. He had a damn good idea what Vin had just been about to say. Masochistic as it was, he prompted, “There was a … what?”
Facing Rogen, Vin wore a stony expression as he said, “A ring. I bought her a ring. A really fucking big-ass diamond ring.”
“Ah, shit.” Rogen’s gut took a dive south. Mostly over the fact that Vin had been ready to stake a claim on Jewel—whom Rogen had considered, until recent events, his woman. But also because Rogen had inadvertently foiled Vin’s plans. And shattered Jewel’s dream.
Son of a bitch.
“It wasn’t as though I wanted us to get married the day after graduation or anything,” Vin explained. “I was going to give her the ring on prom night. Then we’d go to college and maybe after we turned twenty-one or graduated we’d tie the knot. I just wanted her to know how serious I was about her.”
Vin shook his head, sighed with notable agitation. Then added, “Problem was, I flew off the handle when I found out she’d gone to you. It hurt. I wanted to hurt her back. That’s irrational and petty, but then again, we were eighteen—what the hell did we know about being rational?”
“She was pretty devastated when she called me afterward, to see if I’d heard from you at all. But she wouldn’t tell me why she was so upset. Just that she needed to talk to you and couldn’t reach you.”
“I ditched my phone,” Vin told him. “Bought a new one. With a new number. So I didn’t have to see her calls or e-mails coming through. So I didn’t have her number programmed in. Hell, I even changed my e-mail address.”
“That was harsh,” Rogen commented. Then said, “Though I likely would have done the exact same thing in your shoes.”
“The thing is,” Vin told him in a darker tone, suddenly opening up, “you always let her know how you felt about her. You always complimented her. Always told her you loved her, once you’d realized it. I never did.”
“You never said you loved her?”
Vin gave a sharp shake of his head. “I was much too obstinate—or maybe arrogant—about it. I wanted her to say it first, so I’d know she was really over you. Serious about moving on. With me. But I definitely felt it. Christ,” he groaned. “I think I fell in love with her the first time I was inside her. She gave me this look … all wide-eyed and breathy. Then she smiled. Goddamn, she has the prettiest smile.”
“Yeah. She does.”
“As prom night was rolling around, though,” Vin confessed, “I didn’t care who said it first, because I was damn certain we were on the same page. So I was willing to take a chance. But then everything between us blew up. End of story.”
Rogen stood and rounded the island. Slugged Vin in the gut, and he nearly doubled over.
“What the hell?” he roared.
“That was for fucking my girlfriend.”
Vin glared. “She wasn’t your girlfriend at the time. She hadn’t seen you in eight months.”
“That’s why I didn’t punch you in the face.”
* * *
Jewel was already on the jet when the guys showed up. Vin yanked the hem of his polo shirt from his dress pants and flashed his ridged stomach, with a light bruise on it.