Page 19 of A Little Complicated

“Mav,” she whispers. And fuck me, the sound shoots straight to my groin.

“Say your peace so you can make yourself feel better, Opie,” I snap, too fucking impatient for my own good. “Then you can be on your way since that’s what you want, right?”

She shakes her head and keeps her voice quiet. “You're not allowed to be mad at me, Mav.”

“Thank you for telling me how I’m allowed to feel,” I return.

“I think it’s time we—”

“I’m leaving.” Frustration burns in my chest, and I step toward the exit.

Her grasp on my hand halts me as she wrenches me back. Well, tries to. The girl might be strong, but we both know she could never physically make me stay if I didn’t want to.

So why am I still fucking standing here?

Glaring down at her, I take in her small, dainty hand encasing part of my wrist. The way her chest heaves as she stares up at me. The glint of hurt in her brown sugar irises. The way they make me want to crumble, right here, right now.

Been there. Done that. Didn’t exactly get me far.

My upper lip curls at the reminder. “Get your hand off me.”

“I’m sorry,” she snaps. “I’m sorry my”—she scans the hallway, confirming we’re alone—“datebailed on me an hour before prom, and I’m sorry I let your brother take me instead. I’m sorry I’m dating your brother and you have to hear us hanging out in his room at night. But it’s not like you actually care. If you did, you wouldn’t have—” Her mouth snaps closed, and she shakes her head. “Look, it doesn’t even matter. Can we please move on and pretend like it never happened?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?”

“Other than being an ass?” she quips. “Beats me.”

“I’m always an ass,” I remind her. “If you want the upstanding citizen, I suggest you talk to Archer.”

“Archer isn’t here.”

“Exactly.” I step forward, crowding her against the counter until her pert ass hits the edge of the granite. “So the question is, why are you?”

“Because I want to talk. I want to…make amends or something.”

“Why?”

“Because you hate me, and I’m sick of you hating me.”

“Fine. We’re square. My pride is intact. You’re fucking my brother. Everything’s great.”

Again, she flinches at the sharpness in my words but doesn’t call me out for being a dick as she looks up at me. “Great.”

“Great,” I repeat.

“Great.” She lets me go, grabs her keys from the counter and slips past me, storming out of the house. A moment later, I hear the familiar sound of another door banging closed.

She went home.

She’s out of my hair.

For now, anyway.

If only she’d keep it that way so I could breathe.

Fucking great.

5

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