Godsdammit. Bast felt something hot and wet slide down one cheek and she knew what it was. She didn't want to admit it, but she knew. Fuck. He'd made her cry.
"You didn't do anything wrong." It was the truth. He'd been wonderful. Sweet, funny, generous, sexy, perfect. No. No! Not perfect. Where the hell had that come from. He wasn't perfect. If he was, she wouldn't have gotten all... clingy and stupid.
"I just don't do this," she tried to explain, hating the way her voice sounded when she was crying. "I don't... date. I see whoever I want, whenever I want, and I don't let anything hold me back, so I don't date. I don't see somebody exclusively. It's not me. I'm not acting like myself, and it's because of you, so I can't see you anymore."
Then, in spite of herself, as her hand lifted to wipe at the now-steady flow of tears, she muttered, "I'm sorry."
What the hell? She never said she was sorry! He was ruining her!
Abandoning any idea of getting the rest of her clothes, Bast headed for the bedroom door. She had to get away from him before she said something really stupid. Like that she didn't mean it. Like that she wanted to stay with him. Like that she--