Page 75 of Racing Hearts

“And sisters are here to be a pain in the ass.” She elbows me away. “Call Evan. Fix it.”

As she rolls her shoulders back, walking toward Bones who is waiting for her, I can’t help but let my own droop. “I can’t. It’s broken,” I whisper, not wanting her to worry about me. It’s my job to worry about her, not the other way around, and yes, maybe I’m using her as a reason to keep going, but I also want to keep her safe.

I wonder if Evan would train with Bones. I know he’s skilled and can protect himself, but I don’t like that he’s on campus where this happened. He might hate me, might not want to see me again, but he’ll understand that, right?

Pulling out my phone, I bring up our messages, hesitating over the keys. Will he ignore me? Probably. My stacked messages from the last week are still on read. Thumbing back, I swallow the pain in my heart as I read the flirtatious ones from before. I open the last picture he sent and rub my thumb across his smiling lips, wishing more than anything that I could fix this and be the man he deserves.

Clicking off it before I cry like a fucking loser, I hit call instead, hoping he’ll answer. I walk outside, standing by the glass so I can keep my eye on Bones and Alice as I wait anxiously for him to pick up. It rings and rings, and I’m about to give up when the line clicks on.

My breathing is almost a pant, excitement and fear warring within me, and I’m left fighting in silence, unsure what to say.

“What, Alek?” He sighs.

“You answered,” I blurt like a moron, my cheeks heating, but luckily he can’t see.

“You’re stubborn, so I knew you would just keep calling until I did. What’s wrong?” He sounds tired, and I hate that it’s probably my fault.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay with everything that happened and—” I ramble.

“I’m fine.” The word kills my hope. It’s cold and calm, leaving no room for argument or for me to start a conversation. He’s drawing a line, and I hate it, even if I know it’s for the best.

I don’t deserve Evan Shaw. I don’t deserve to be happy or loved. This is just a reminder, but it doesn’t stop me from trying. He’s the only shred of light in the darkness of my life—the only shred of decency and happiness I’ve ever felt.

“Pretty boy . . .” I swallow, knowing I have no right to call him that now. “Evvie, please, I’m sorry. If I could just?—”

“You keep saying sorry,” he murmurs. “I didn’t even think you knew how to apologize, but here we are. A relationship shouldn’t be you constantly hurting me and then apologizing. It should be filled with you finding ways not to hurt me again after apologizing. Just stop calling, Alek, okay? You’re making this harder.” His voice is soft, pained, and I hate it.

I hate all of this. I just want him here in my arms where he belongs. “If it’s this hard, it isn’t right,” I admit.

He’s quiet for a moment. “I realized something tonight.” There’s shuffling in the background—is he in bed? Was he thinking of me like I am of him? Does he miss me like I miss him? “I didn’t mind waiting for you when I had hope. I could have waited forever, but you will never love me enough to overcome whatever it is that’s stopping you from being you because you like your life. You like being miserable. You like being unhappy because it means you never have to lose anything again, and you will never want me more than that. Maybe it was wrong of me to try and force you to out yourself at the party, and I’m sorry for that, but I had to know what you would choose. It wasn’t about you kissing or claiming me. It was about looking into your eyes while you thought about it. Do you know what I saw, Alek? You’re scared. You’re scared to be happy. You’re scared to love someone, and because of that, you close yourself off and stop yourself from wanting anything so you don’t get hurt. Maybe I’m foolish for trying with you when I knew how it would end, but at least I tried. I’m honest with myself and with my life. You? You’re not really living. You exist. You work. You look after Alice. You never want anything for yourself?—”

“I want you,” I interrupt, my voice tight. “I want you. You’re the only thing I have ever wanted or taken for myself.”

“And you didn’t want me enough to fight for it, not when things got hard. I love you, Alek, but right now, I really don’t like you. Sometimes I wish I’d never met you.” Tears fill my eyes, and they fall unchecked. “But then I remember the happiness we had, even briefly, and I can’t regret that. I just hope one day you meet someone you care more about than protecting yourself. I hope you find someone to love, because it isn’t me.”

He hangs up, and I’m left crying against a silent phone. “I already did—you,” I admit.

I know he’s right. He saw right through me even when I didn’t want him to. I’m a coward. I’m so scared of getting hurt that I thought I could protect myself and love him, but that’s not possible. You can’t protect your heart and give only what you wish to someone. You have to be vulnerable, weak, and trust them not to hurt you even when you know they could. I didn’t do that. I was halfway out the door the entire time, so when it shut after me, it didn’t hurt.

But it does. It fucking hurts, so all that stupid bullshit didn’t work because I’m still fucking hurting despite it.

Turning, I press my forehead to the glass, seeing Alice beyond, but my eyes blur with tears, and all I can think about is the past and the reason I am this way.

“Come on, Alek, they’ll never know,” Matty promises, the party music still pounding. He’s lying under me, his hands gripping my biceps. I fell after he yanked me through the door.

“Matty, stop,” I demand as his hand pulls my shirt up, sliding across my chest, but I can’t bite back my groan or the way I react. I never can, and I hate that I react to him. I’ve tried to kiss girls, to fuck them like all my friends, but I just can’t. Nothing works. I can get hard alone, but with a girl? No. One touch of Matty’s hand, though, and I’m as hard as a rock. He smirks like he knows, his hand drifting down to press against my cock, and I moan, jerking in his hand. “Please,” I beg. “Don’t.”

“Why? You like it.” He leans up, licking my lips. “We both know you do. You want me, Alek, right?”

I try to back away and stop this, but then his lips are on mine, and he’s kissing me. His hand stroking me through my jeans and his soft lips feel so good, I give in to this want inside me, the one that scares me. I let go, trusting him as I kiss him back, pressing him to the bed. The hard press of his muscles against mine almost makes me spill in my jeans.

Breaking the kiss with a gasp, I stare into his wide eyes as he strokes me. “You want me?”

He nods, his lips red from my kiss.

“Have you ever—” I start, unsure what to say, my cheeks flaming.

“Been with a guy? No, we can figure it out,” he replies. “Don’t you want to?”

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