“Dahlia, I need to make a confession to you. I know you’re probably not going to take it well, but I need to get it off my chest. I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me at all after this.” Drake sat up straight where he was seated and stared directly before him, not meeting my eyes. After all the talk about CeeCee and how she might have died, I dreaded the words that were about to come out of his mouth, regretting that I didn’t have my phone with me to call for help if I needed to.
“You don’t need to tell me anything, Drake. If you did something, I don’t want to know about it. I’ll just grab my things and go home, and we will pretend this conversation never happened.” I started to stand.
“Wait, you think this has something to do with CeeCee?” he asked. “Oh, God. I didn’t mean to give you that impression. Jesus, I’m not a killer, Dahlia.”
My heart slowed a bit from its frantic pace. “What then? Or do I even want to know? I really shouldn’t have come here tonight.”
“Wait!” He put a hand up to prevent me from leaving the room. “Please, just hear me out. I really have to say this to you.”
Slowly, I sank back into my seat, perched on the edge with my hands on my knees in case I needed to push off quickly and go. I watched him carefully, trying to gauge his expression to predict what was coming next. He gave nothing away with his poker face, however, and I was left waiting to hear what it was he was so determined to impart to me.
“I told you earlier that when we have sex, it is different from anything else I have ever experienced with any other woman. Every sensation is heightened. Every orgasm seems to make me higher than the best drugs I could get my hands on. I find myself daydreaming about you, thinking about the way you feel when you’re sheathed around my cock, when you're clenching my dick with your pussy when you cum for me. But it’s not just that. When you came to my house, I wanted to take care of you. Dahlia, I’ve never wanted to take care of anyone before. The only person who has ever mattered to me is myself, and maybe my mother.” Drake pulled on his fingers as he watched me, waiting for me to react.
“Before you keep going with this, I feel obligated to tell you, regardless of the words that come out of your mouth next, the only person who matters to me is me. That is one thing we have in common.” I didn’t know what else to say.
He shook his head. “But that's not true for me anymore. I want to care for you. I want to give you all the things you can’t afford, and more. Have you ever been to Paris? I could buy us tickets right now. Or Ireland, or wherever, really. Whatever you want.”
“Drake, I—”
“Please,” he put his hand up again to silence me. “What I’m trying to say, Dahlia, is that I am in love with you. Desperately in love with you. You dominate my thoughts, and when I see you naked and bared to me, you take my breath away.”
“It’s lust, Drake. It’s not love. I’m very good at making men want me and taking what I need from them. What I want happens to be sex, and most men will give that up very willingly. You are no exception. I have no feelings for you other than wanting to ride you now and again. But the ‘I love you’ bit is a massive turnoff for me. I’ll grab my things and go. I’m sorry you’re upset about CeeCee. What happened to her was not your fault, but don’t use her tragedy as an excuse to come clean to me about feelings that simply aren’t real.”
“They’re real to me,” he argued.
“No, they’re not. Listen to yourself. More than half of what you said revolves around us having sex. That’s not what real love is, Drake. You should probably consider getting a counselor to talk to about your feelings. I’m not your girl.” I threw myself out of the chair and headed for the rack where he’d stashed my jacket and purse. He pursued me into the foyer.
“So that’s it then? I lay my heart wide open to you, and that’s all you have for me?”
“What do you want?” I asked. “I told the truth. Did you want me to lie? Would you rather me pretend to love you and take everything from you without remorse? I like sex, but I’m not a cheat. Please get out of the way so I can go.”
He blocked the door with his arms over his chest, heaved a heavy sigh, and stepped aside. “If you change your mind—”
“I won’t.”
“Will you at least think about what I said?”
“Nope.” I crossed the threshold and unlocked my car from the porch. “I made myself clear. I’m sorry that hurts you. Goodbye, Drake.”