Page 75 of The Dixon Rule

“So, what, we spend six months together and you just throw me away? Couples work through stuff together. They help each other with their issues.”

“It’s not my responsibility to help you with your insecurities!”

Now I’m angry. And once my temper has been triggered, there’s no going back. It’s probably my worst trait, but there’s nothing I can do about it at this moment. He’s literally exhausted the last iota of my patience.

“I’m going to be brutally honest with you right now. I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to help you work through your issues.” We’re about fifteen yards from the main gate of Meadow Hill, but I’m too wound up to walk. I halt in the middle of the sidewalk and slap my hands on my hips. “We’re not together anymore. We will never be together again.”

“Is there someone else?” he demands.

Oh my God!

I want to scream. But it’s obvious this man has zero respect for my boundaries and even more obvious he’s never going to comprehend that I simply don’t want to be with him. To Percy, if I don’t want him, that must mean there’s another guy involved.

And since that’s clearly the only way his brain will register what I’m saying, I shout, “Yes!”

He rears back as if I’ve struck him. “What?”

“Yes, there is someone else. I’m seeing someone new.”

He hisses out a breath. “Is it the hockey player?”

“Yep. Right again. We’re done, okay? So please, just move on. The way I’ve moved on.”

I start to walk, but he grabs my arm and tugs me backwards. I don’t know if he means to be so rough, but it feels like my arm is jolted out of its socket.

“Let go of me.”

“You fucking bitch,” he snaps, and the mask completely shatters, revealing angry red eyes, flushed cheeks, and lips twisted in a snarl. His fingers curl around my forearm like a steel band. “You made me grovel and beg and this entire time you were doing exactly what I knew you were doing!”

“Let go of me,” I repeat.

When I try to shrug his hand off, his grip tightens.

“Let go of me.” My free hand fumbles out to try to push him away.

“Fucking bitch.”

The next thing I know, his fist snaps forward.

And then he hits me.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SHANE

If you want me, I’m yours

“HEY, LINDY.”

This is the first time Lynsey has called me since we broke up. She’s texted a few times, sure, to say “hope you’re doing well” or whatever platitude, but she never made an effort to reach out and hear my voice. Until now.

“Hey,” I say, hiding a smile. “How’s it going?”

It’s been a few days since Diana and I nailed our stellar performance of Boyfriend and Girlfriend: Madly in Love. Although maybe madly in lust is more accurate, considering I ended up making out with her in my kitchen. At the time, I thought Lynsey seemed bothered that I was with another woman, but after days of radio silence, I gave up on that notion.

And now look who’s calling.

“Thanks again for letting us stay over last weekend.”

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