When I Say Yes (Necklace Trilogy 3)

“I have neighbors, Dash!” I grab the door and swing it open, give his unharmed face a quick inspection, and demand, “Don’t you have a fight to be at?”

He steps forward, crowding me. His hands are on my waist and he’s walking me backward into the apartment and slamming the door shut. “What the hell, Allie?” he demands.

“You’re cursing at me again, Dash,” I snap. “Damn you.”

“Hell yes, I am. I told you to go home. Neil was supposed to tell you to he was sending a driver to take you to the airport.” He looks around at the tiny space and says, “This is not your home. We have a home in Nashville.”

“Because what I earned on my own isn’t good enough for your taste?” I snap.

“Because anywhere that’s not with me is not good enough.”

“Anywhere you can order me to is not a home. It’s a prison. I’m not a possession, Dash. And don’t treat me like I’m a member of a harem who does as you command.” I twist away from him, putting space between us and holding up my hands. “No more. I went into this—whatever this was—with you, knowing I would get hurt. Now, it’s happened. Now, I can’t do this anymore, Dash. No more.”

“There’s no harem, Allie. There’s just you.”

“Seems more like there’s just you. Go fight. Do what makes life livable for you.”

“I’m here right now for a reason. You’re what makes life livable. You.”

“Liar,” I accuse. “I’m done with the lie that was us, Dash. I’m done. Go box. Go do you.”

I blink and he’s closed the space between us again, his hand cupping my head, and dragging my mouth to his. “I don’t want you to be done. I’m not done.”

“You told me we weren’t good for each other anymore.”

“I told you I wasn’t good for you.”

“And then you told me to go home. And that’s what I did.”

“If this is home, then we’ll live here.”

His breath is warm. His body is hard and even warmer. “Stop,” I hiss, shoving on his chest. “You chose, Dash. And it wasn’t me or us.”

To my shock and with a stab to my heart, he releases me then, almost as if I’ve reminded him of a truth, a reality that still exists. He turns away, giving me his back, dragging a hand through his hair. It’s then that I realize he’s not even wearing a coat. He’s in a white T-shirt and jeans, muscles bunched up in his shoulders. He faces me. “I was trying to save you, Allie. From me.”

I laugh without humor. “I told you before. It’s too late for that. I’m pretty sure it was too late the day we met.”

“No,” he says. “No, it’s not too late. But it will be if I don’t leave now.” He rotates away from me again and then he’s at the door, his hand on the knob.

My heart thunders in my chest and the room spins. If he walks out of this apartment, we’re done. We’re over. And he’s going to. I know he’s going to leave. A part of me wants to scream at him to come back. The other part of me wants him to just go, just get it over with so I can try to move on. Yes, leave, Dash, I think, but that’s not what my heart really wants and the words that follow are ripped straight from my soul. “I used to think I was the one who ran. But I was wrong. All you do is run and hide, Dash.” His hand is still on the doorknob, but it doesn’t turn and he doesn’t move. He is more stone than man right now, impenetrable, and I can’t hold back.

I’m unleashed now, my tongue loosened from the wine. “That’s what fighting is to you. A way to hide in the punishment, wallow in the pain, and never do the work to get beyond it. I’m part of that work. Being with me makes you have to look me in the eye and that’s worse than in the mirror, apparently.”

Seconds tick by and then he moves and not to open the door. I blink and he’s in front of me, his fingers diving into my hair once more. “Holy hell, woman,” he murmurs, and then his mouth is crashing down on mine, and he doesn’t give me time to object. He owns me with his mouth, claims me with the licks of his tongue and the taste of man, whiskey, and demand.

I moan with the feel of his hand sliding up my back, molding me closer. “If you want to know everything, Allie,” he says, pressing his lips to my neck and then my ear, “you have to give everything.”

Guilt stabs at me with the knowledge that I have yet to tell him everything, but then, he never gave me the chance. “Stay long enough for me to get the chance and I will.”