Page 90 of The Finish Line

“By being honest?!”

I step forward and invade her space, eager for this fight. Because she’s fighting her emotions now, and they’re winning, and to me, that’s more important than the why of it.

“You ruined it by keeping me in the dark about the details. All these things, if I would have known even half of them, I would have had a better understanding of you, you fucking jackass!”

“You do understand me! You see inside me, you’ve been in places no one else has.”

“Maybe so, but these things you consider details are vitally important to me, Tobias.”

“Are you on your sugar pills?”

“What?!”

“Nothing. Keep your voice down. Your parents are outside.” My head begins to pound.

Welcome to the bliss of domestic life, Tobias.

But it’s not my own voice I hear. It’s Sean’s. “I didn’t have time—”

“More excuses, not reasons.” She shakes her head and scoffs. “Haven’t you ever in your life blurted anything out? Ever?”

“Once or twice, but only when fighting with you. And you know better, I’ve trained myself never to do that, you should know—”

“Oh, I know! Trust me, I know, you stupid French ape!”

Biting my bottom lip, I dart my eyes away.

“Don’t you laugh at me! This isn’t fucking funny! This right here is the why, Tobias. This is why a majority of our problems exist, because of your fucking secrecy!” She slaps her chest where her heart lay. “You want in here?”

“Yes,” I clip, my blood boiling.

“You want back in here?” She says it again.

“Yes, goddamnit, that’s all I want!”

She rounds the bed and steps up to me, and smacks the side of my head with her finger. “Then let me in here!” I gape at her in shock as she steps away, launching the next missile over her shoulder. “Until then, you’re wasting your fucking time here.”

“I was honest with you tonight!”

She balks at me as if I’ve slapped her before turning her back on me. “Just once—” she marches to the bathroom, clicking on the light—“just once, I wish I could make you feel what this is like.”

“I think finding out that you were brought into my club and having a relationship with not one but two of the men closest to me is enough fucking surprise to last a lifetime.” I hover by the bathroom door, and she pauses with the toothbrush in her mouth before tearing it out, the residue bubbling on the corner.

“That’s not the same, and you swore you would never bring that up.”

“Not to hold it against you, it was to make a point!”

“A choice point!”

“Fine. I’m sorry,” I grunt, my entire body lighting with anger and frustration. “I just meant it was surprising enough. And just to make myself clear, I’m good until twenty years past death with fucking surprises when it comes to you.”

“That wasn’t a surprise of my design!”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ve met your quota.”

“That was then,” she argues back. “I’m talking about now. Right now, at this very moment.”

The idea of coming clean about Antoine gets tossed out the window as I step in shit, neck deep.

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