Page 73 of That's Too Pucking Bad

“Yeah,” I whisper, barely able to meet his eyes. “Bye.”

He hesitates, like he wants to say something else, but then he just nods, giving me a small, sad smile before walking to the door. I watch him go, the sound of the door closing echoing in the quiet apartment, and suddenly, it hits me. The finality of it, the empty space where he used to be.

And maybe he’s right. Maybe this is for the best. But as I stand there, staring at the closed door, all I feel is this hollow ache that I can’t quite shake.

I sink onto the couch, pulling my knees up to my chest, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself cry over Colin and the mess I have made of things.

I glance around campus, hoping for a glimpse of Zane. I scan the hallways between classes, the cafeteria— anywhere he’d usually be smirking or lounging with that cocky swagger of his. Nothing. It’s like he’s disappeared.

After class, I walk to the student lounge to meet Maya, thinking I’ll have a distraction, but she barely sits down before she’s checking her watch.

“Sorry, babe,” she says, sliding her bag over her shoulder. “Caleb’s waiting. Dinner plans.”

“Caleb?” I try to sound casual, but she’s already standing. “Can we talk for like ten minutes?”

She gives me an apologetic look. “Rain check?”

I watch her leave, feeling this hollow, sinking sensation. I could call Zane, but I know how that’ll end. And anyway, I don’t want to seem desperate… do I?

I do it anyway. It rings once, and then straight to voicemail. “Zane,” I whisper, clutching the phone. “Hey, call me back.”

But he doesn’t. The next three days are like this. No texts, no calls, no sign of him anywhere. I replay everything in my head, trying to remember why I ever thought this was a good idea. I threw away my relationship with Colin for what? To be ignored by a guy who can barely show up? Pathetic.

I bury myself in books, anything to distract me, but even then, my mind drifts. After class one night, I’m at the library, trying to lose myself in something— anything. That’s when I hear a few girls nearby, giggling as they talk about the Reaper party happening tonight.

“Should be insane,” one of them whispers.

“Oh yeah, the whole team’s gonna be there. And I heard it’s going to be wilder than ever.”

My pulse spikes, and I strain to hear more, but they’re already gone, chatting as they leave the library. I grab my things and head home, practically racing. If he’s going to be there, I have to go. Finally, an opportunity to talk to him, to see him.

I yank open my closet, pulling out the only dress that screams ‘don’t mess with me’— a tight black slip that barely covers what it should. I pair it with thigh-high boots and an oversized leather jacket. My hands shake as I line my eyes withthick black eyeliner and gloss my lips. I check my reflection. Perfectly reckless. It’s exactly how I want him to see me tonight.

I dial Maya, just to see if she’ll go with me, but it goes straight to voicemail. Fine. I grab my bag and step out, slamming the door behind me.

The Reaper mansion’s only a few blocks from campus, and I take every step like it’s going to get me closer to him. The house is already lit up, the bass of the music thumping, laughter and voices spilling out the front door. My heart races as I walk up the steps and step inside, scanning the room.

For once, I’m here for only one reason.

And I can finally admit it to myself.

Chapter 15

The party’s loud and packed, and I’m about ten drinks deep, trying to ignore the restlessness that’s been eating at me. I haven’t slept in days, my head’s all over the place, and nothing’s been enough to shake off that familiar itch under my skin.

So, when a hot brunette in a mask practically threw herself in my lap the second I walked in, I figured, why not? Anything to distract myself. She is one of the regulars from the parties.

Angela? No. I think her name is Emma.

I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t really care.

She’s down on her knees now, her hands on my thighs as she works her mouth over me, but damn, it’s not doing it. Not even close. I watch her head move up and down, her hands gripping, her lips stretched around me, but it’s like I can barely feel it. She’s not doing it right. She’s not Remy.

I bite back a groan, irritated as hell, reaching down to adjust her mask, trying to find a spark, something to make this worth it. Her mouth goes deeper, but I’m still bored out of my mind. Just as I’m about to tell her to ease up, there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“Occupied!” I grunt, rolling my eyes.

But the voice from the other side makes me freeze. Caleb.

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