Page 75 of That's Too Pucking Bad

She was supposed to be mine.

Mylittle slut.

The girl I could not stop thinking about. But despite how much I try to pretend, yes, my ego was bruised by it all.

“You really want to know why?” I step closer, closing the space between us. “Because I’m not your backup plan, Remy. I don’t sit around waiting for you to figure out your messed-up little love life.”

“Backup plan?” She scoffs, crossing her arms. “You’re one to talk. I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that you’ve been with half the campus, including tonight?”

“That’s none of your business.” My voice is colder than I mean it to be, but she’s hitting a nerve, one I don’t want touched.

“Oh, I see,” she says, her tone mocking. “So, you can move on, but I can’t even talk to my ex?”

So, he did break up with her.

“That’s different.” I step in, and she doesn’t move back. I’m so close, I can smell her perfume, that hint of vanilla and something sharp that always messes with my head.

“Oh, is it?” Her eyes meet mine, daring me, her jaw tight. “Why, Zane? Why’s it different?”

“Because he’s not the one standing here with you. Right now, that’s me.” I’m practically growling, my voice low and dark. I grab her arm, pulling her closer, and she stares up at me, that fire in her eyes flaring up, like she’s daring me to do something about it.

“Zane,” she murmurs, softer now, and I hate the way my body responds to it, to the way she’s looking at me. “I came here because I wanted to see you.”

“Why?” I ask, my grip tightening. “So, you can screw with my head a little more? Get what you want and leave?”

She flinches, her mouth parting slightly, and for a second, I think I might’ve actually hurt her. But she squares her shoulders, staring up at me with that same defiant look.

“Maybe I just miss you,” she whispers, barely audible.

I want to roll my eyes. “Miss me? You’ve been asking me to leave you alone for weeks, and you just decide to show up now? Why? Because your perfect fucking boyfriend broke up with you?”

She opens her mouth, ready to protest, but I cut her off. “No, no, save it. I’m not your emotional punching bag, Remy. I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” she fires back, stepping into my space, her breath warm against my skin. “You’re the one who keeps shutting me out!”

“Because I don’t know how to handle this,” I shoot back, the frustration pouring out of me. “I thought I could let you go back to him, but you’re goddamn impossible to fucking forget. I’m not supposed to want you like this.”

Her expression softens, and I can see the hurt flash across her face. “Zane, I—”

“No,” I cut her off, my heart racing. “You don’t get to say anything else. Not after how you left me hanging. You went running back to him!”

“I had to figure things out!” she retorts, her voice rising. “And you’re one to fucking talk, Zane! I saw you come out of that room with that girl!”

“Oh, you saw that, huh? I wasn’t screwing her,” I say, but the denial sounds weak.

“Oh, please. I’m not blind. You were in there with her for some good fucking time, weren’t you, Zane?” she says, frustration seeping into her tone.

“Yeah? Well, you weren’t there, so you don’t know what happened. I was just trying to forget you, okay?”

Her lips part, and for a second, I think she might just get angry again, but instead, she steps closer, her eyes searching mine. “I don’t want you to ever forget me.”

I watch her blink up at me, her hazel eyes filled with tears.

She was meant to be mine. She is mine.

“Run,” I groan.

She looks around before whispering a weak, “What?”

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