that could possibly work.
‘Is this because I missed the show?’
‘Oh, wow, you think?’ Yeah, she’d just lost her grip on cool and capable.
‘Ellie—’
‘You don’t have to explain it. I understand. You don’t care for me.’
Silence. Then he got snappy right back at her. ‘Our “friendship” isn’t a one-way street, Ellie. You haven’t been the best of friends to me either, you know.’
Well, that wasn’t fair. But she was too hurt to argue. The last thing she wanted to face was the fact that she loved his calls, loved hearing his tales. She got more than he did from this and she wanted more still. ‘I don’t think we were ever truly friends, Ruben. I think all those movies are right—men and women can’t do platonic friendship. Let’s call it a day, okay?’
She jabbed the end-call button, furiously blinking back the sting of rejection.
Someone instantly started hammering down her front door. She swiped the trickles from her cheeks and stormed the stairs. The door was rattling in the frame. She yanked it open. ‘You were outside all this time?’
‘I’ve had enough of the phone call rubbish.’ He barged in, plucking her phone from her hand as he pushed past and flinging it across the room. His went with it.
Stunned, she watched them smash on the floor. ‘You’ve probably broken both of them!’
‘Good. So we’re forced to speak face to face.’
She turned back and stared at him. For the second time that night her knees went completely weak. ‘What the hell happened?’
‘Car crash.’
Her lungs then failed too. ‘You’re kidding,’ she wheezed.
‘No. On the way to the airport the night of your awards.’
That was why he hadn’t turned up? That was four days ago. ‘And you’re still this bruised?’ He looked awful. Not even the jeans and the favourite ‘Lucky’ shirt could lift his near death-mask look. ‘Why didn’t you try to get in touch with me?’ She was so shocked she shouted.
‘When I regained consciousness the next day I did try. Just went to your answerphone.’
Oh, now she felt terrible. He’d had an accident—a horrible accident that could have been so much worse. And she hadn’t been there for him. He’d been alone and abandoned again. That just broke her heart. But how was she to have known if he didn’t tell her?
Ruben had decided on the trip down that he was going to fight hard—and dirty. No matter how, he was winning this woman.
‘Friends are supposed to look out for each other,’ he snapped, belligerent. Mad with himself as much as he was with her. ‘Why didn’t you call me to see where I was?’
‘I sent you a text,’ she snapped, equally defensive.
‘One.’ His hurt spilled. ‘You never followed up. You never called that night or the next day. If we were such great friends how could you walk away so easily?’ He breathed in and it hurt. Every breath hurt.
‘So this is my fault?’
It was all her fault. ‘You didn’t care about me enough to wonder where I was or whether I was okay.’
She paled; her blue eyes weren’t sparkling, but glistening. ‘It never occurred to me you might not be okay.’
‘No, you just thought the worst of me. That I’d let you down.’ He breathed in hard and honesty—responsibility—slammed into him. Because he knew exactly why she’d not followed up with her call—she’d been afraid, yet certain, of his rejection. ‘And you were right, that’s exactly what I’d decided to do.’
Yeah, his chest burned. He saw the horror in her eyes at the sight of his bruises. But he couldn’t win this that dirty after all. He didn’t want to win her through sympathy. Her guilt was a hollow, bitter victory. He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want her to feel bad or obligated. He just wanted her to love him the way he loved her. But she deserved the truth. Even if it meant he might lose her.
‘The accident doesn’t matter,’ he said huskily. ‘I wasn’t going to be there anyway.’
‘What do you mean you weren’t going to be there?’ She’d backed up to the wall, as far from him as she could get.
‘I’d decided to end it. I was texting you to say I wasn’t coming when the accident happened.’
‘You were texting while driving?’ she screeched, anger flooding back.
‘Actually I was in the back of a taxi.’
She stared at him and as the seconds ticked he didn’t just see the pain he’d inflicted on her, he felt it himself. Her hurt was his—because his heart was hers.
‘Why are you telling me this?’ Ellie had suffered too many shocks already. She didn’t get what the guy wanted or why he was here.
‘I want to be honest with you. I want to clear this up.’
Clear it up? As in over? Hadn’t she just tried to do that? What was with the torment?
‘I don’t want to be friends with you, Ellie. I want a relationship with you.’ He looked less than impressed about it. ‘I can’t get you out of my head,’ he growled.
She had no sympathy—nothing left to give in the face of this. ‘Maybe you need to try harder.’
‘Ellie.’ He shook his head, his voice low. ‘I can’t stay away from you.’
‘You can’t stay away from sex. That’s all it is.’
‘No, that is not all it is,’ he shouted back. ‘We hadn’t had sex in weeks.’ He drew breath—the damn cracked rib kept poking him, forcing the honesty. ‘Yes, that was a big part of it at first. But then it was you. All of you.’
She wasn’t buying it. ‘You only did the calls because you were frustrated that I hadn’t put out. I was the challenge—and once you’d conquered me up on that mountain you weren’t interested any more.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘Well, what is it you want from me, then?’ Oh, she hurt. So hurt. But she couldn’t be second best. Not when he’d become her everything.
‘Ellie.’ His voice broke. He leaned back against her door, his body completely rigid, every muscle straining as he pressed his fists to his chest. ‘I can’t sleep. I’m barely eating. I can’t concentrate on anything at work. I haven’t for weeks. I don’t want to be this obsessed. I’ve always been totally one track, but, now, you’re the track. And I can’t fight it any more. I don’t care about anything else. All I care about is being with you.’ He scrubbed his hands through his hair. ‘But I’ve never had a relationship actually work for more than five minutes. And I can’t...’ He sighed. ‘You
