She blew out a breath, irritated at her fear. “It’s okay.” Although it didn’t feel okay. None of this did. And she was so . . . freaking . . . pissed.
“No, it’s not,” Dare said, advancing on her like a lion on its prey. “None of this is okay.” He got right up in her space, crowding her against the sink.
She stared at him a long moment, her insides nearly shaking with rage, and then she let the truth fly. “Okay, you’re right. None of this is okay.” She shook her head, trying to rein herself in. “What are you still doing up?”
He searched her face. “Could ask you the same thing.”
Haven shrugged. “I can’t sleep on a good day, let alone when I feel like this.”
“Like what?” he asked.
She crossed her arms. “Scared. Pissed. No, so freaking mad it feels like I might explode apart.”
“Haven—”
She pushed around him, restless and needing space. “I mean, shit, why does everyone in my life find me so hard to want and to love?” she asked, the question spilling out of her as she started pacing. “My mother just walked away when I was a baby and left me in what she knew was a bad situation, or she wouldn’t have run away herself. And my father never looked at me as anything more than a nuisance or a possession, something he could use or sell to the highest bidder.” The words represented her ancient, most fundamental hurts, and saying them was like purging a sickness from deep, deep inside.
Dare grasped her arm. “Haven, what your parents did has nothing to do with you being lovable—”
“Oh, really?” she said, yanking her arm free and spinning on him. “And this coming from the man who said it would be better for everyone when I’m gone, who said he wasn’t serious about me and I wasn’t anything special.” She glared at him, the anger she’d been trying to beat back all night welling up inside her and finding a target.
Dare froze for a moment, and then his shoulders sagged. “Shit,” he said, raking his hand through his hair. “I’m an asshole.”
Strange laughter bubbled out of Haven. “Uh, yeah. A confusing asshole, at that. Kissing me one minute, pushing me away the next. Cuddling me one minute, telling your closest friends I’m nothing to you the next.” In some distant part of her mind, Haven tried to tell herself to stop. Did she really want to spend her last hours fighting with him? When she had so few left? But now that her anger had escaped, she couldn’t stuff it back down.
“Haven,” he said, stepping closer.
“No,” she yelled, moving back against the opposite counter. She pointed at him, a silent command for him to stay put.
He did. “You’re right. I’m an asshole for all of that. And for lying to the guys about you.”
“Lying,” she repeated, weighing the word on her tongue. She scoffed.
Dare nodded, the circles under his eyes darker, his face a shade paler. Tired. “It’s true. I didn’t mean what I said to them. And I hated that you overheard me say it.”
Shaking her head, Haven resisted the words. Believing them would just open her up again. Open her up for more hurt.
“I didn’t mean it,” he said again. He took a small step closer.
She threw her hands out in exasperation. “Then why did you say it? And why did you let the words stand until now if you didn’t mean them? Why would you let me believe them?” Giving voice to the questions that had been weighing on her drained away some of her anger.
“I said it because I didn’t want to admit that I cared,” he said, coming closer. “Because then I’d have to admit that letting you go was going to fucking suck.” Closer. “And I let you believe it because I hoped maybe, somehow, it would make it easier for you to leave and for me to watch you go.” Closer still until he stood an arm’s reach away.
She shook her head. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear.”
Suddenly he was right up in her face. “I didn’t mean it. You are special to me. Very special. And I am interested, even more than I should be, given our age difference and my general moody disposition and your innocence and all the good things you deserve. And I don’t fucking think it will be better for me for you to go, but it will be better for you. Safer. The fresh start I promised and you deserve after everything you’ve been through. That’s not a line, that’s the God’s honest truth. On my mother’s and brother’s graves.” His expression was fierce, his eyes blazing.
Haven’s heart was a runaway train in her chest. His declarations were thrilling and healing. He’d never invoke his mother and brother that way if he didn’t mean it—she believed that down into her very soul. Not that she knew what to do with what he’d said. It didn’t change the fact that she was going away. Soon. She shook her head, exhaustion settling over her and calming the fight inside her. “Okay.”