Page 56 of Bitter Rival

Guys have done a lot worse.

So casual. So fucking cavalier.

My jaw clenches so tightly, I wouldn’t be surprised if my molars disintegrate into dust. “Yeah? Who are these guys?”

She laughs softly. “What are you going to do about it? Beat them up?” she teases.

I crack my knuckles and roll out my shoulders. “I want a list of everyone who has ever hurt you. Give me their names and I will hunt them down and make them pay for it.”

She laughs again, but I’m only half-joking. “You’re so blood-thirsty. You just live for revenge, don’t you?”

“Only when it’s justified.” I would go after every asshole who ever hurt her.

I have the money and the means now to destroy anyone who ever laid a finger on her without her permission.

Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than to bring them to their knees.

“Sorry to deprive you of the sheer joy of seeking revenge, but save your energy for better things. I’ve moved on and I’m absolutely fine. The people who have wronged me hold no power over me.”

Nice words but I’m not entirely convinced.

Daisy angles her body toward me and rests her cheek on the seat, tucking her legs underneath her. The moonlight casts a silvery glow on her hair and skin, and before I can stop myself, I reach out and push a lock of hair off her cheek.

It feels intimate in the confined space of the back seat.

“I take back something I said. When I told you that if I wanted to kiss you, I wouldn’t ask for permission…I was wrong.”

The backs of my fingers brush her skin, and she lets out a soft sigh, eyelids drifting shut. “You should never let anyone kiss you or touch you without your consent,” I say quietly. “Not me. Not any other asshole.”

Her eyes meet mine, lips slightly parted, and even in the moonlight, I can see the tears glittering in her eyes.

Sick fuck that I am, I have an overwhelming urge to kiss her. To crash my mouth against hers and kiss her until her lips are bruised and swollen and the only word on her lips is my name.

But there’s another part of me that prevails.

I want to make it better like I used to when she was a little kid with blonde pigtails, and I was just a boy who would have done anything to make her smile.

I want to slay her dragons. Fight her battles. Mend her bruises.

But Daisy isn’t a little kid anymore and she’s not looking for a savior or a white knight.

Since I’m neither of those things, it’s probably for the best that she’s not asking for my help or expecting anything of me.

I’d only disappoint her.

A few minutes later, the Uber pulls into the driveway and I round the back of the SUV to open her door, but she’s already out of the car and striding up the front steps.

I follow her inside, and we climb the stairs in silence.

On the second-floor landing, she turns to me, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. The hallway light illuminates her smudged eyeliner and I have to shove my hands in my pockets to resist the urge to brush away the tears clinging to her lashes.

I’m not that guy. I’m more likely to make a girl cry than to brush away her tears.

I can’t remember the last time I felt the urge to comfort anyone.

Until tonight.

“Thank you,” she says, her eyes dropping to the floor. She lets out a shaky breath. “That was really nice.”

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