Page 113 of Electric Touch

“Yeah, well. I found out a few things.”

“What kinda things?”

I don’t answer him.

“Stop being a baby and just spit it out. What did she do?” He eyes me. He’s probably thinking she has been with another guy. Why else would I be reacting like this? Part of me wishes it was another guy. Maybe that would hurt less than this… Whatever this is.

“She was using me.”

“For what?” Dylan sits forward on the bed, his hands clasped in his lap.

“Fuck knows, but she didn’t tell me the truth about how we met.”

“At the gig in Brooklyn?”

“Yeah,” I get up and start pacing, almost tripping over a tennis shoe. I kick it out of the way, making my brother flinch. “She has this stupid list.”

His brows arch, like he doesn’t see the problem.

“A list of things she’s doing. Weird things that she wouldn’t do because her life is boring,” I spit.

“Yeah, you told me about it, and that makes her a bitch how?” he asks.

“Because one thing was to sleep with someone famous.”

Dylan’s mouth pops open. He looks away from me as he gets what has me so pissed off. “What is the purpose of it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t fucking ask.”

My head is so hectic right now, but something scratches at my brain. There was something else she had to tell me, but I cut her off. It’s niggling as I pace the floor. I try to think back on what she was saying.

“I mean, it doesn’t excuse what it started off as. Nash, would she stick around the way she has, if it was just about one night? From where I’m standing, and the shit I’ve seen and heard from you lately, this isn’t about fucking a famous person. She cares about you, and I know you’ve fucking fallen for her.” He rolls his eyes.

“I thought I had.”

“No, dude. You have.” He gets up and grabs my arm to stop me from pacing. “You’re not thinking, man. I get it, Riley fucked you up, but not every woman is Riley.”

“I know that,” I spit, jamming my hands on my hips. “I thought she was different.”

“Get your head out of your ass and think straight. You overreacted because you think there was this ulterior reason behind her meeting you. But so fucking what? There is always a reason behind how people meet. Some of them are way worse than whatever this is. You guys have been good for the last couple of months. You’ve been unbearably fucking happy. It might just take one conversation, Nash. You walked away without hearing her out. That’s what this whole mess is.” He glances around at the bedroom. “You need to talk to her.”

“I don’t want to fucking talk to her. I need to think. Plus, we’re going on tour. I’ll be gone for two months. What is the fucking point?”

“Okay.”

“What?” I look up at him in surprise.

“Fine, fuck her. Go on tour, meet someone else. Fuck groupies, whatever. It’s done.”

That makes my heart hurt. I can still see her face when I turned and walked away. She was stoic, but I could see behind the look in her eyes. It hurt her. I know she cares about me. She was going to tell me. Like I was going to tell her, but I’m so fucking bull headed and fixated on being betrayed. I didn’t hear her out. I lean against the wall and tip my head back. Jesus, I just said some fucking awful things about her to my brother. Adrestia isn’t a bitch. She isn’t like Riley.

My mind races, turning our conversation over and over. I try to figure out what she said that was evading me.

“Just don’t be a mopey bastard on the tour,” Dylan interrupts my thoughts. “We had enough of that before you met her. Everyone is ready for this tour, hungry for it. Having you acting like a bitch will not be fun for anyone.” He walks out and leaves the door wide open.

I go over and kick it shut. Then rest my forehead against it. I’m overreacting. He’s right. But I can be forgiven. Can’t I? I go to my bed and drop on my back, staring at the ceiling. My mind whirs over our time together. All the things we’ve done over the last couple of months. Yeah, okay, so she came to the audition with a goal in mind, but she didn’t go through with it. I can’t imagine Adrestia having a one-night stand.

Running into her at the gig, she tried to make me go. You can’t fake those reactions. And yes, she approached me in that bar, but she walked away too. Without offering her number, or taking mine. She had no way of contacting me.

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