She jerked back, feeling like he’d reached out and slapped her. Stop it. Stop it right now before you say something you can’t take back. But it was too late. Hurt and betrayal welled up inside her, taking over, until she could barely look him in the face. “Ryan wasn’t just babysitting me when he called you in. Two birds, one stone, Luke.”
He flinched, some of the warmth draining out of his eyes. “You took your fate into your own hands, and you succeeded. This self-pity bullshit isn’t hurting anyone but yourself.”
The need to strike out, to expel some of this horrible feeling in her chest, was overwhelming. It was all a lie. “Don’t hold back. Tell me what you really think. Though my so-called self-pity can’t stand against yours.”
His mouth tightened. “There’s the spoiled little princess again, throwing a tantrum because the world isn’t how she thought it should be.”
God, it was a miracle she could keep breathing past the pain. “Better than sitting around, nursing old hurts. At least I tried to move on with my life. You’re—you’re happy being miserable.” She couldn’t do it anymore. If she stood here a second longer, she was going to burst into tears, and he didn’t deserve to see that he affected her enough to cry. “Good-bye, Luke. I’d say it was nice knowing you, but all it did was confirm what I knew the moment I saw you. You’re an arrogant asshole with a bad attitude.”
“Keep walking, princess. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Run away when things get hard.”
It’s not being a coward if I have to flee to keep from throwing myself in your arms and begging you to make it all okay. But it would be a lie—the last in a long line of many. She deserved better than that. And he deserved better than to be tied with a woman he’d only followed around as a favor to a former squad mate.
Luke let her go. He stood there and watched her walk away, disappearing into the crowd on the train platform. It wasn’t so easy to banish her words. He tried to dredge up some anger, annoyance, anything to avoid dealing with the gaping wound opening up inside him, but it wouldn’t come.
Of course she couldn’t wait around long enough to actually talk about this. She’d gotten some news she didn’t like and taken off. Just like she always did.
He shook his head. That reasoning didn’t stick anymore, not now that he knew her. She might have run from Wellingford, but she’d put up with a lot of shit before she did. And she was right—he’d been floating angrily through life since the IED went off. But he’d been about to start making changes. She inspired that.
Alexis had made him take a step to the side and really look at what his life could be like if he wasn’t so determined to cling to what he’d lost. Being around her amazing strength was enough to have him feeling like he could conquer anything.
Like he was more than the sum of his scars.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
Luke cursed. “Chase her down, you idiot.” He might have lied to her about why he was in Europe in the first place, but he hadn’t lied about anything else. Hell, he’d been more truthful and real with her than he had been with anyone else in years. He couldn’t let her just walk away.
He started in the direction she’d gone, nearly shoving people out of his way. A flash of dark hair caught his eye, and he rushed over and spun the woman around. The woman who was not Alexis. “Shit, I’m sorry. Wrong person.”
She glared and rattled off something angry in Italian before hitching her purse higher on her shoulder and stalking away. Fuck. He turned a full circle, but there was no sight of Alexis. Which made sense. She wasn’t going to stick around and wait for him to pull his head out of his ass. Maybe it was for the best. What use did a woman like her have for him? Yeah, he was half a step from declaring something a whole lot more permanent than infatuation, but he was still broken in a big way. Her words only showed exactly how well she understood that.
You’re talking a good game because your goddamn heart is breaking, you fool.
Yeah, he was.
He should probably call Flannery and give him an update, but Luke didn’t have it in him right now. In order to explain why he wasn’t chasing her down, he’d have to tell the man he’d been crossing the line with Alexis from day one. That wasn’t a conversation he needed right now—or ever.
No, what he needed right now was a drink, preferably a double.
As he walked down the street, he wished he could appreciate the beauty of Venice, but the warm colors, ancient buildings, and countless bridges arching over the canals had nothing on Alexis. Christ, why hadn’t he gone after her immediately? The few minutes it took to shove his pride into the backseat was all she needed to run away. Yeah, she might not want to see him right now, but at least then he’d know she was safe.
He shook his head. That was a dirty lie. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. She’d proven that every step of the way. He was the one constantly trailing after her, bullying his way into her life in an effort to feel like he was worth a damn.
She didn’t need him. She never would.
A sign hung from a building up ahead, the picture of pizza and beer a promising one. If he was going to be in Italy, he might as well try the pizza, even if eating was the last thing he felt like doing right now. Still, the drink was high on his list, so he pushed through the door.
The room was deserted, faded wood tables and chairs without a single occupant. Even the bar running along the back of the room was empty. He almost turned around and walked out, but a dark-haired woman poked her head out from a doorway he hadn’t seen. She rattled something off in Italian, but the shooing motion couldn’t be clearer. They obviously weren’t open.
“My bad.”
“Whoa, hold on. American?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Mississippi.”
“Awesome.” She jerked a thumb at herself. “New York, born and raised.” The woman paused as if considering him. “Look, we aren’t really open, but if you want…”
“A beer.” He felt like a drowning man flailing for a life preserver.
She laughed. “Dude, it’s nine a.m., but whatever floats your boat. If you want a beer, you can hang out and drink while I open.”
The ability to drink without worrying about some stranger trying to talk to him? If he didn’t feel like his heart had been ripped out of his chest, he might actually smile. “I’d appreciate that…”
“Tristina.”
“Luke.”
She disappeared under the bar and came up with a bottle. “Here. You look like you could use it.”
“You have no idea.” The first sip didn’t do a damn thing to wash away the last week. Hell, he wasn’t sure an entire brewery would be enough to erase how it felt to have Alexis in his arms. He was so fucked it wasn’t even funny.
“Try me.”
When he raised his eyebrows, she shrugged and laughed. “Bartender is just another word for shrink. The fact that I’m bilingual only makes it worse. I have people telling me their sob stories in both English and Italian. But the upside is it makes me really great at solving other people’s problems. And I’ve been doing this long enough to know that you have problems. It’s written all over your face.”
He almost begged off, but the truth was that he didn’t have another person in this world he could talk to about Alexis. Flannery would threaten his life, and Aunt Rose might actually fly her fifty-seven-year-old ass out here just to smack him upside the back of the head with her purse. “You sure?”
“Definitely. Hit me with it.” She opened a cabinet and started stacking glasses on the bar. “I guarantee I’ve heard it all before.”
“I’m retired military. Former squad mate of mine called in a favor and asked me to keep an eye on a family friend out here who was traveling alone. Which is fine, except I fell for her in the process. Today she figured out that I’m not a stranger she met in a bar, and that I was lying to her this entire time.”