“I know,” Rogan said again. Just that.
Then he stood, too—but she was tired of waiting, tired of feeling like they’d suddenly become some sort of couple again, so she simply said, “Come on,” and started to march away, back up the path that had led to this.
And just like the last time she’d tried to do that, he reached out and grabbed her arm.
Shit, what now?
She stopped, darted her gaze up to his. “What is it? We have to go.”
“You’re happy with him, right?” he asked.
Damn it. For some reason, the question nearly stole her breath. “Yes.” She’d thought they were done discussing this. She’d
wanted
to be done. Desperately. She didn’t want to go down this road.
And that’s when he said, slowly, and more softly than she’d remembered he could speak, “I’m glad you’re happy, Mira.”
Oh Lord, when was the last time she’d heard Rogan sound so earnest, so … almost gentle?
“But … if you weren’t …”
She held her breath. “Yeah?”
Then saw him swallow visibly before he replied. “Look, I know I bailed on you before, back when we broke up. But if we ever got together again, babe, I think I could make you happy. Really happy. The way you wanted back then.”
It felt as if her heart dropped to her stomach. She’d never been so taken aback by anything Rogan had ever said to her. He wasn’t … this guy. He just wasn’t. She’d wanted him to be. But she’d finally figured out that you couldn’t change someone.
So … how the hell was it possible that he was saying this? She tried not to let the depth of her reaction show on her face. And besides, she was still pissed about what had just happened between them. “What? You’re suddenly Mr. Settle Down and Commit?”
He met her gaze and looked … like he didn’t quite know himself, didn’t quite know who he was in this moment. “I’m suddenly … Mr. I Realized I Was a Fool to Ever Let You Go.”
“Oh,” she heard herself say, even more shell-shocked now. And she wasn’t sure there was any hiding it at this point. Then she whispered, “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
She stayed silent, her head rushing with thoughts. She’d once loved him so much. Their chemistry had been electric and it still was. He’d been the uncatchable guy, the bad boy every girl wants and can’t quite have. Oh, it had been good for a while—it had been amazing—but she still remembered with clarity the night they’d fought in his car outside her apartment. She’d seen him flirting with another girl and called him on it. And things had been heading south for weeks by that time anyway. She’d just hoped against hope that he would see her point of view, feel bad, apologize, love her the way she loved him.
Instead, he’d just kept staring at the steering wheel, not saying anything, and she’d felt him slipping away, bit by bit, long before he’d finally said, “Maybe this thing between us has run its course.”
“What?” she’d asked, feeling as if he’d just stabbed her in the heart. Yes, she’d known it was coming, but hearing it was something else entirely.
“Look, you just want this to be a more serious thing than I do. I don’t want to feel tied to you every second.”
God, that had stung. Because for a while, it
had
been a serious thing; for a while they’d been glued at the hip and he hadn’t been able to get enough of her, and suddenly he was acting like that had never happened, like she’d never been that big a deal to him at all.
They’d talked a little more, but he hadn’t really said much else. And finally, just to clarify, she’d said, “So you’re breaking up with me. We’re done. Am I hearing that right?”
“I guess,” he’d said.
And she’d stormed at him, “You guess? It’s a yes-or-no question, Rogan. Are we done?”
And he’d simply said, “Yeah.”
And now—now, after all that and so much time had passed—he was saying she could have him?
On a gut level, she couldn’t deny that it felt exciting and magical, like the impossible dream come true, the happy ending of a movie.
But … what was she thinking? She loved Ethan. Ethan loved her.
And he was solid and predictable and dependable. And damn sexy, too.
And he’d just cooked her a birthday dinner and blown up lavender balloons and he never even looked at other women and he wanted nothing more than to make her happy. Yes, they’d had their problems, but that seemed to be in the past. It would be … beyond foolish to even
think
about giving up what she had with him.
And as for Rogan … how dependable was he? Could she trust what he was saying here even if she wanted to? He’d once had no qualms about hurting her, after all. And though she’d eventually forgiven him and moved on, he hadn’t done it very gently, either.
“I’m sorry, Rogan,” she simply said now, stalwart. And then she started away again, up the path.
She wanted to run—she wanted to run away from this whole situation—but she made herself keep a steady pace. Even if he knew she’d been affected by this, she still didn’t have to let him know how much.
“Mira,” he said.
And one more time, she looked back. But more distance lay between them than the last two times he’d stopped her, thank goodness. She was finally starting to get away from him, finally starting to head back where she belonged.
“I’m sorry I said anything, okay? Forget I did. I don’t want to ruin anything for you here, and this …” He stopped, shook his head. “This was all spur of the moment and doesn’t mean anything. Just old feelings, like I said. But I’ll get over it. So … don’t feel like you have to worry about this now, all right?”
She bit her lip. “I’m … not worried,” she lied.
“So you’re not gonna rush back and tell Ethan? Because … we might not be the
best
of friends, but he
is
my friend and I feel like shit about this.”
“Nothing to be concerned about—I’ll keep it between me and you.”
“And you’re not gonna declare the party over, tell me I have to leave?”
Hmm, that was a good question. “I probably should.”
“But you won’t.” Now he sounded like the old Rogan again. In the blink of an eye.
“You sound so sure.”
He tilted his head, and even in the dim, shady light, his eyes sparkled. “You’re liking this, having both of us. You’re not ready for it to be over yet.”
And at that, she just turned and walked away.
Chapter 12
S
he tried to act cool, not too rushed, as she made her way down to the dock. But the fact was, she remained shaken. To her core. Not the least of which was because hearing Rogan tell her that what he’d just said, what they’d just done, didn’t mean anything … somehow told her the opposite. Maybe it was the look in his eyes when he’d said it. Maybe it was the tone of his voice. But whereas a minute before she’d been questioning his sincerity, his dependability, now she knew with her whole heart that he’d really been serious; he really wanted her back.
And now, with that mind-numbing news fresh on her brain, she had to face Ethan after what she’d just done. Oh God.
“Damn—about time,” Ethan said, looking up.
She could smell the steaks and craned her neck to see if they were still on the grill. She had no idea how long she’d been gone. “Sorry. I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”
“Nope, birthday girl, just getting ready to take them up right now. But I was getting worried.”
Stepping up beside him, she felt the need to rise on her tiptoes and give him a quick kiss, a kiss of silent apology—although he appeared focused on spearing the three New York strips with a long, two-pronged fork and getting them onto a platter. “So what’d you find back on the trail? Anything?”
Oh God. Rogan. Lust. Sex. Old feelings.
“A wishing well,” she said.
He looked up. “Really? Cool.”
She nodded. “So I guess I just … lost track of time looking at it.”
“Did you make a wish?”
“Yeah. But don’t ask me for what or it won’t come true.” Her voice came out sounding calm, but her heart still beat too hard in her chest.
And as Ethan gave her a grin, she thought back to that moment, that wish.
A love that will last the rest of my life.
Suddenly, though, now the wish seemed to border on absurd. To wish that and then fuck another man two minutes later—what had she been thinking?
Or … no. Surely fate wasn’t trying to tell her
Rogan
was the man she was supposed to be making that wish about! She hadn’t actually named a specific man in the wish—but she’d just assumed the kind of love she was talking about would be shared with Ethan. And she still believed that. Because that was the only thing that made sense. Wasn’t it?
Just then, the sound of the cabin’s screen door slamming made them both flinch and look up to see Rogan meandering down the stone steps. Mira’s heart began to beat a little faster.
“Hey,” he said a moment later, greeting Ethan easily as he walked onto the dock, then switched his gaze to Mira. “Happy birthday, babe,” he said, then placed one hand casually at her waist as he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. She had to hand it to him—he was good. She’d never suspect the two of them had just rutted like wild animals a few minutes ago. And, God help her, she felt his touch more than she usually would have.
“It’s been my birthday all day,” she pointed out, trying to act as normal as him.
“Yeah, but this is the, uh, official celebration.”
“Where ya been?” Ethan asked easily.
“Took a walk,” he said. “Then … fell asleep in the cabin for a little while. Sorry if I’m late or anything.”
“Nah,” Ethan replied. “Just hadn’t seen you in a while. Here, take these to the table.” He handed the platter of steaks to Rogan, then went about removing baked potatoes and corn on the cob from the grill, too, all of them wrapped in foil.
“Everything smells great,” she told him. “Thanks for going to so much trouble.”
He smiled down at her. “It wasn’t that much trouble. And I just wanted to … you know … show you I care. Make it a little bit special.”
“
You’re
special,” she told him, then stepped up close to him, looped her arms around his neck, and lifted on her toes again to give him a sexy, lingering kiss even as he held the big plate of corn and potatoes out to one side.
The only problem was—Mira wasn’t sure if that kiss had been for
his
benefit, for hers, or for Rogan’s.
T
hey hadn’t brought down the birthday cake or gifts from the cabin, and by the time they’d finished a leisurely dinner and a bottle of wine, the air had cooled, making them decide to head indoors for the rest of the party. It was mostly dark out anyway. Mira insisted on bringing the balloons in with them so she could keep enjoying them, though she was aware the wine might have influenced that decision.
“Presents or cake first?” Ethan asked as she tied her balloons to an old-fashioned sconce on the wall.
And though she knew it was generally cake, then presents, she decided to take advantage of the question—and her slight intoxication—and said, “Presents.”
With that, Ethan reached into a shopping bag behind him and pulled out a prettily wrapped gift complete with a lavender ribbon. She smiled upon recognizing the wrapping paper from her favorite lingerie store. Meanwhile, Rogan walked across the room, stooping down to a leather duffel bag by the couch and returning a moment later with a smaller, thinner box that she might expect to contain jewelry. Except that Rogan had
never
bought her jewelry. Ironically, she would find it more likely that Ethan would give her jewelry and that Rogan would choose lingerie.
Lord, everything is beginning to feel very mixed-up here.
She still wished she’d resisted Rogan’s seduction in the woods. She still wished he’d never said those things to her, and she certainly wished she hadn’t felt them, hadn’t felt that strange pull toward the past, toward those old feelings for him. Slowly but surely she was beginning to realize that his being here was a double-edged sword. So very scintillating and satisfying in some ways—yet potentially devastating in others.
But wait—what was she thinking? No, it
wasn’t
devastating, because she wouldn’t allow it to be. Hadn’t she come skittering down to the dock eager to see Ethan, eager to put her wishing well encounter with Rogan behind her? Hadn’t she realized immediately afterward that Ethan was still the man for her and that Rogan’s blustery claims of wishing he’d never let her go didn’t count for anything?
She supposed it was only natural that she was still trying to get it out of her system, though, and now she resolved to concentrate only on what was happening at this very moment. This was her birthday party, after all, and she wanted to have a good time. “Can you open another bottle of wine?” she suggested to Ethan. Wine would help her focus on now more than the troubling memories from a couple of hours ago.
“Sure,” he said, departing from the kitchen table where she sat with her unopened gifts before her. Grabbing a chilled bottle from the fridge and uncorking it, he poured fresh glasses for all of them while Rogan turned on the radio. After trying to find a different station than the retro one they’d listened to last night, Rogan announced it was the only one that would come in.
“That’s okay,” she said, recognizing a Def Leppard song. “I
like
a lot of the older stuff.”
“Any other songs that make you dance on tabletops?” Rogan asked, sending a playful, friendly wink her way. It felt like … making peace.
So she couldn’t help smiling, meeting his gaze. Maybe this thing between them would calm down now—maybe it would all be okay. “Nope, only the one,” she told him, and he snapped his fingers in mock disappointment.
Once they were all settled around the table, Mira picked up Ethan’s gift. The truth was, she was more curious about Rogan’s, but it seemed somehow … important to open Ethan’s first, to make him her top priority.
Untying the pretty lavender ribbon, she quietly removed the wrapping, pulled out the small box, and took off the lid. Nestled in pink pastel tissue paper, she found a gorgeous lavender bra and panty set—part intricate lace, part chiffon-looking fabric—that struck her as classy and expensive. She smiled up at her boyfriend. “Pretty,” she said.