Chapter 22

Gemma

“Gemma!” Vincent called from behind me.

I had burst through the doors of the building and out into the parking lot lined with expensive shining cars. My feet were bare as I ran out with my dress hitched up, and I hadn’t expected Vincent to follow me. Not now, after the way I had undoubtedly embarrassed him.

Within moments of entering the parking lot, I knew I had nowhere to go. It was an enclosed space, a dead end, and he was going to corner me.

“Gemma, please stop, this is ridiculous,” he said in a calm unruffled voice. When I whipped around, I found him standing several feet away from me, his hands thrust into the pockets of his tailor-made pants. His brows were crossed, and his black eyes were narrowed at me. If he was angry, he wasn’t showing it.

“I really just want to go home,” I cried, letting go of my dress. It fell with a swoosh around me.

“I’ll take you home if you want to go. You should have just said so, I didn’t mean for you to be uncomfortable here,” he said, in a soft voice that oozed kindness. His composure seemed to make me angrier. I didn’t feel like I deserved his decency.

“I mean, I want to go to my home. Carlow Ridge. I want to go back to Carlow Ridge. This was a big mistake,” I said with my nostrils flared, my chest heaving from my heavy breathing.

“What was a big mistake?” Vincent asked, and I noticed the way his eyes sparkled. His shoulders were broad and strong under his jacket; he was clenching his jaw. He was so handsome, and I knew I didn’t deserve him. I had been lying to him all this while.

“Coming here with you. Just taking off, thinking that it would be all right,” I said, shaking my head.

Vincent remained where he was; he hadn’t made a move in my direction.

“I don’t understand what has changed so suddenly. We were having fun some time ago. I thought you would be excited about this party, to meet my friends,” he said, a look of confusion taking over his face. Was he losing his patience? He should be.

“No, I’m not excited. I wasn’t excited. I thought it would be a chance to get away from my home, but it isn’t. I don’t belong here,” I spat out, trying to control the surge of tears rising in my throat.

Vincent remained silent, fixing a harsh gaze on my face. He was trying to figure out the meaning of what I was saying.

“Don’t you see how different our worlds are? You saw my town, where I grew up. How could I possibly fit in here?” I cried, one fat tear now rolling down my cheek.

He sighed and then shook his head gently. “I wasn’t expecting you to fit in, Gemma. I invited you here because I wanted to spend time with you. I didn’t want you to change or adapt to my world,” he said quietly.

I was glaring at him, shaking from disbelief. I didn’t want to buy what he was selling. A man who lived like this, looked like this… a man who could have anything he wanted; why would he want me?

“And you’re wrong, Gemma. I don’t know your home. I haven’t seen where you’ve grown up. I don’t expect you to show me or tell me about it if you don’t want to. I don’t care about your past; that is not why I wanted to be with you,” he said after a few seconds of silence, after I hadn’t replied to anything that he was saying. I was afraid to ask him why he wanted to be with me. I couldn’t imagine a possible reason.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in there,” I said, wiping the tear from my cheek. Vincent shook his head. I was embarrassed again for making a scene.

“Don’t worry about it. They’re just my friends, and I don’t think anybody else noticed or cared,” he said, taking a step toward me.

I wanted to be in his arms, lay my head against his chest. I had never needed somebody as much as I needed to feel his touch right then. But I was ashamed of myself, of my behavior. Especially because he was being so kind and understanding.

“Why do you keep running away from me?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Vincent,” I replied, my lips quivering. I was still fighting back tears. “This has never happened to me before,” I told him truthfully.

“Do you want to just go back to my place? This party is a bore anyway,” he said and stretched out an arm toward me.

I gulped and nodded. “I guess I’m just tired,” I squeaked, making a lame excuse. The truth was that I just wanted to be alone with him, even if we spent the next hours in complete silence.

“Let’s go get the car; we’ve had a busy few days,” he said and I walked toward him. When I felt his hand on my back, that electric current shot down my spine again. But it also made me calm.

We were walking toward the front of the building in silence. Neither of us wanted to really speak, especially not me. I knew he was being a gentleman, the perfect host, and I wondered if he’d ever want to see me again after the way I’d acted.