Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 629(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Because you were determined.” Ari plops down on the cushion beside me, smiling over at baby Deaton, asleep on the pile of blankets on the floor.
I wait for her to look back this way before responding, that way my frown isn’t wasted. “And by that you mean?” I narrow my eyes.
“I could have told you exactly where you were going to end up that night if you’d asked.”
I gape at my best friend, and she beams brighter, squealing when I hit her with a pillow.
“Stop.” She tries to rein in her laughter. “You’ll wake him, and he only just fell asleep.”
“Yes, well, if you had told me I was on a self-destructive warpath Saturday, I wouldn’t have skipped my round at the child development center just in case Alister was waiting outside it as he’s been known to do, and Deaton would be napping on his little cot over there and not here.”
“One, I like him here better because I don’t get to see him when you’re both there, and two, it was not self-destructive, so don’t be dramatic.”
“I had sex with the guy I’m trying to hate.”
“Is it still considered sex if you don’t make it to the grand finale?”
“Can you not even say the word come?” I snap back.
Ari chuckles, pressing her shoulder into mine. “Okay fine, but it still counts.”
I scoff, shifting on the couch and putting my head on the pillow pressed to her side.
Ari looks down at me, lips pinched, and I scowl up at her.
“What?”
“You said trying to hate.”
Huffing, I face the TV, watching without listening. “I don’t hate the man. I…dammit, I like him.”
“But?”
“But I’m not so sure I want to.”
“Because of what he did?”
“It’s more than the scheming,” I admit. “Obviously he fucked up, but it wasn’t just some little white lie. He was intentional in finding my soft spot. Kissed me the first time to get closer, not because he wanted to.” I pause, remembering the day we met last year and hating the bitter notes that roll across my tongue. “Our whole…nonrelationship relationship was built on fake interest. It’s tainted and I don’t know if, one, I can let that go and, two, if I even want to try.”
Ari is quiet for a moment, considering my words before asking, “Do you think he’s a bad person?” Her tone is one of genuine curiosity.
I sigh, closing my eyes. “Nope, and that right there just makes it all worse. I mean, we all do stupid shit when we’re hurt, right?”
“Not all of us,” she says, and I look up at her. “Not you.”
“Please.” I sigh. “I’m not a saint.”
“No, but you don’t hurt people when you’re hurt. You don’t act out. You accept it and you move on.”
I groan, kicking the blankets from my legs. “Then why the hell can’t I move on this time? I did just fine when Trey left for bigger and better things.”
Ari fights a smile, and I fly up, settling on my knees beside her.
“Knock it off. I did and you know it.”
“Okay, fine, you did, but maybe that’s because Trey left town and Alister is still here fighting for you.”
“It sounds like you think I should forgive him.”
“No, it sounds like you are waiting for someone else to tell you that you can, but you must already know that, Cam. If you want to forgive him, none of us are going to judge you.”
“Brady literally wanted to know if he should start befriending him.”
She smiles. “See?”
I stare at my friend a moment, then throw my hands up and move toward the kitchen. “In case you were wondering, this isn’t helping.”
“So what are you going to do, hide out here forever?”
“Seems like a solid plan.”
“Until Thursday arrives, and you have to be his partner in class.”
My face falls and the traitor laughs.
“Forgot about that, did you?” She smirks. “At least it’s a hybrid class so you don’t have to see him in person twice a week unless you have project work to do.”
I pout some more. “I just want to pretend he doesn’t exist for a few months and see if I care at the end of it.”
“Uh-huh, and did you decide this before or after Saturday?”
“Fuck off,” I mumble, ignoring her amusement and heading to my room.
Plopping down on my bed, I stare up at my ceiling, wondering what to do from here.
It’s not that I regret being the aggressor and taking a ride on Alister’s disco stick, as Lady Gaga so expertly put it. I don’t. I wanted what he had to offer in that moment, so I went for it, and he obliged.
Does that complicate things even more now? Probably, but it doesn’t change anything. I’m still fucked in the head, and he’s still an ass for making me feel that way. To be fair, I’m an ass for taking things to the end zone at the party, but if I know Alister the way I think I do, he’s not upset with me over it, and therein lies the problem.