Page 12 of Desperate Actions

Wear the red.

What the hell just happened?

“Holy fuck,” I whisper aloud.

My heart is beating me to death. But I know better than to let myself think about him romantically.

I have spent most of my life tucked neatly into the periphery of his vision.

A kid.

A little cousin.

An irritant at worst, a background fixture at best.

Usually, I make myself scarce when he comes home.

The few times he’s been back, I either stick to the shadows or place myself firmly in the center of the girls and their chaos, letting the sheer volume of their antics drown me out.

A self-imposed invisibility cloak.

And it worked.

Mostly.

I dated a little, flirted just enough to seem normal, but never let anything get serious.

Because deep down, I was still waiting.

Still holding on to the foolish, pathetic hope that maybe—just maybe—he’d see me.

That Sammy Ramirez would finally notice me.

But this time?

This time, I absolutely know better.

This trip is about me. About my achievements.

I fought for this degree. I earned this.

And I refuse to waste another second mooning over a man who will never see me as anything other than a distant shadow in his orbit.

Sammy Ramirez might be the only man I’ve ever wanted.

But it’s time I start living.

Chapter 3-Sammy

It’s not the first time I have to fuck my hand because of this woman. And I do, before we all meet up for food and drinks—fuck. I shouldn’t do this. I know better. But I can’t help it.

And after I paint the shower with my cum, I swear to myself—it’s the last fucking time.

She’s so close now.

Almost in my grasp, and I am mad for her.

I wait in the lobby with Connor and Clementine, hands shoved in my pockets, forcing myself to be still.

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