“Give me a second chance?”
If Isaac had been drinking anything, he would have done a spit-take. “You have to be joking.”
He’d avoided Beck for two years, blocked his number and all social media, barely even spoke to Beck’s parents, and Beck seriously thought Isaac would date him again? Especially after the disaster his last relationship turned out to be?
Beck winced. “Are you honestly telling me you don’t feel anything for me?”
“Oh, I feel plenty of things. Anger, betrayal, sadness. I’ve never had a problem with my emotions, that was your thing.” Isaac was the crier, the one who wore his heart on his sleeve. Beck was the strong, confident one who punched whatever made Isaac cry. Feelings were a foreign concept to Beck most of the time.
“Then admit you still love me,” Beck insisted, leaning over the table. “What we had doesn’t just go away.”