Page 5 of Wreckage

She felt the same wreckage I did.

She had to.

Because she and her mother had ruined everything.

Before they came into the picture, my mom was still in it. Before them, I could still pretend she was coming back.

But then Lacey walked in with her quiet, bookworm daughter, and suddenly, it was over.

My dad stopped waiting for my mom. Mom never called again. And now, years later, I was still stuck in this fucking loop.

Rachel kissed me harder, but my hands loosened on her hips once more, and she stilled.

I didn’t say anything.

I didn’t have to

She rolled off of me with a sigh, sitting up and brushing her fingers through her hair.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?”

I smirked and reached for my beer, still not feeling any emotion regarding her.

“I never said I wasn’t, Rach. You know me.”

She huffed but didn’t push it; she grabbed her top from the floor and yanked it over her head before she put her skirt and panties back on.

As she stood, she shot me a look. “You should probably figure out how to push whatever bitch you were thinking about out of your head before you try this again.”

The words shouldn’t have hit as hard as they did.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I took a slow drink of my beer as she left, the door clicking shut behind her.

The music from the party thumped through the walls, and voices slurred and laughed outside the room, but I felt disconnected from it all.

I dropped my head against the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

The weekend couldn’t end fast enough.

Chapter 3

Troy

Rachel led Adrian upstairs, her manicured nails trailing over his wrist, her hips swaying like she was putting on a show, which she probably was. The girl was a gold digger, and with trust funds as large as ours, it made sense why she’d zero in on Adrian. I shook my head and took a sip of my beer.

Rachel wasn’t nice. But then again, neither was Adrian. To be fair, I wasn’t nice and Amanda sure as fuck wasn’t. Maybe that’s why things worked out the way they did. Misery loved company and all that.

Still, something about the detached way he followed her made my stomach twist. He didn’t look like a guy chasing after a good time. He looked like a man walking toward a distraction as if he were forcing himself to feel something.

I exhaled and turned back to Amanda.

She leaned into my side, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my arm. “You’re zoning out again.”

I gave her a tight smile. “Just thinking.”

Amanda sighed, pressing herself closer. “You’re a senior now, babe. You should be celebrating, not overthinking everything.”

She was right. This was supposed to be the year where I wrappedthings up, made my final connections, and secured my future. It was supposed to feel like the right next step.

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