Page 24 of Love Defies Us

I lean against my car and we stare at the stars and the crescent moon. The air is sticky like honeydew and the smell of pollen pollutes the air. He was my best friend up until I went off to high school. Before I realized my dad loves him more than me. Before I realized he was their golden child and I was the scapegoat. Before I realized I wasn’t good enough to love.

“You used to follow me and James around, wanting to hang out with us. We had so much fun playing in our treehouse, and at one point you used to tell me everything. Now… you’ve grown bitter and rather angry towards our family—towards me. But please don’t be angry at me. Be angry at our bastard parents. They deserve your wrath. Not me.”

I catch the sadness in his eyes, pleading with me to repair what is broken between us. My heart somersaults in my chest and a tint of nausea floods my body. And I miss having my brother around. I’m jealous of Axel—well, not of him. Of the love he gets from our parents. I want Dad to love me and joke with me the way he does with Axel. I want Dad to take me to the bar and have a few drinks like he does with Axel. And my mom, she treats everyone like shit. She’s as nurturing as a used condom.

I’m like a thrown-away broken toy no one wants to play with or show attention to. And Axel will forever be their shiny new toy that gets admired. It’s not his fault that we’re cursed with shitty parents.

I throw my hands around Axel’s shoulders, inhaling his expensive cologne, and rest my head on his hard, firm chest.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as the wind blows my dark curls in my face and he rests his chin on my head. “I’m so so sorry, Axel.”

I mean every word.

“It’s fine.”

Maybe he thinks my sorry is empty. Maybe he’s tired of folks letting him down.

“No, it’s not,” I say louder. “It’s not okay.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t love you any less and I still see you as that annoying little sister that always wanted to tag along, my little ladybug,” he says and I release him and punch him in the arm. But his words flutter my heart and my chest tingles. He used to call me that when we were little. I had a sick obsession of dressing like a ladybug when I was a little kid.

He opens my driver’s door and the leather hisses under me as I lean back in the seat.

“We should have drinks and go to the gym together. Hang out like old times,” he says. “You promise?”

Hope floods his eyes and I nod slightly.

“I’ll hold you to it,” he says, and he leans down and plants a kiss on my cheek before shutting the door.

One Week Later …

Felix and I lie naked in bed with our limbs tangled up together. We spent the whole evening fucking. Ever since that day that he told me he’s not interested in kissing me, I keep it short, and as soon as our fuck session is over, I leave in the middle of the night. I’m not about to get attached to anyone that’s emotionally closed off. His dick isn’t that good for me to get my feelings hurt.

I really, really, really like Felix but I’ve come to grips that he doesn’t feel the same way that I do. And I’m okay. Rejection is a territory that I’m familiar with. And my momma used to tell me all the time, don’t let a man tell you twice that he doesn’t want you. Felix made it known that he’s only interested in one thing and that’s sex. We get to use each other. And I’m okay with it.

He thrusts his hands through his hair, and I remove my legs from his and push myself off the bed. I pull my white blouse over my head and slide on my floral pencil skirt.

“Where are you going?” he says, sitting up, and I look back at him as his head rests on the oak headboard. The blanket is wrapped around his waist. He frowns. He’s as beautiful as the Northern Lights in Alaska. Shiny and glowing. Intriguing and rare.

“Home,” I say.

“It’s two in the morning. Leave later when the sun is up.” His words are calm as an open field. And something lights up in my belly. The thought of him not wanting me to leave sends an attack of happiness in my belly.

“I’ve got work in the morning.” I grab my black flat shoes and slide them on.

“I wasn’t giving you an option. “

“I said no.”

“Thumbelina,” he says the nickname he gave me gently like he’s pleading with a long-lost lover. “What’s wrong? You’ve been distant lately.” His tone is laced with concern. Concern that I don’t need. Concern that feeds me false hope. I haven’t thought about what I’m going to do about me working as their manager or my future. For once I don’t have my future mapped out. Normally, I plan everything, but I’m as lost as Waldo.

“Nothing. It’s… just work-related stuff.”

“You’re not leaving until we talk about this.” His face is littered with too much determination.

“You would make a good boyfriend, you know that?”

“I’m pretty sure I would. It’s not every day you meet a god with a eight inch dick who does pillow talk,” he states it like it’s a fact, and I roll my eyes.

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