Page 8 of Pucking Forbidden

“I told you that I wasn’t going away,” I finally grumble. It’s the only defense I can muster.

“Guess you’re as fucking stubborn as ever then.”

“No.” I lock eyes with him, stepping closer. Not entirely sure if I’m taunting him or warning him. “You aren’t the only one who changed, Jordan. I’mmorestubborn than ever.”

Surprise flickers through his hardened expression before he manages to school it. “How do you know I changed?”

“Maybe I kept up with you.” I shrug like it’s not a big deal…like I haven’t spent the last six years of my life completely obsessed with this man.

“You kept up with me.” His tone is level. Flat. Like he thinks I’m full of shit.

“Just because you quit caring doesn’t mean I did,” I snap, frustrated by that expression. Hurt because he thinks so little of me.

I can’t really blame him, though, can I? I’m the one who slapped him and told him to go to hell. And I’m the one who has spent the last five years believing my brother.

Does he know that I hate myself for it? That I’ve thought a million times over the years about coming to see him? That I’ve barely slept since Jamison finally let the truth slip? That I packed up my whole life and came here because I couldn’t stay away once the truth was out there? It’s all true. Aside from demanding the truth, I haven’t spoken to Jamison in weeks. I’m too damn mad to forgive him. At him. At myself. And maybe a little bit mad at Jordan, too. Because he let me believe it.

Why didn’t he just tell me that Jamison was lying? Why did he just tell me to go home and forget about him instead of defending himself that day? What did my brother do that was so bad that Jordan would rather let me hate him than tell me the truth?

Jamison ruined his life. Why keep protecting him?

It just doesn’t make sense.

He mutters a curse, his gaze fixed on my face. “You don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about, princess.”

“Then tell me!” I cry quietly, resisting the urge to stomp my foot. “Why did you attack Jamison? Why’d he lie about it? What did he do?”

Jordan gives his head a sharp shake. “Are you here for him or the truth?”

I hesitate for a long moment, not sure how to answer that question. Not entirely sure why I rushed here as soon as I knew. I want the truth, desperately. I wanted to see him again so badly that it hurts. I couldn’t stay away any longer. But…I need his help, too. I know he won’t give it to me. He doesn’t owe me that. But I came anyway. Because…because he’s Jordan, and I’ve already spent too damn long trying to pretend that every inch of my heart doesn’t still belong to him.

“I wanted to see you, but things are bad, Jordan. Really bad,” I finally whisper. “You were the only one who could ever–”

“That’s what I thought,” he says, his voice full of resignation. “You’re here trying to clean up his mess.”

“No!”

“You sure about that?”

I narrow my eyes on him. “I’ve never lied to you.”

He grunts like he doesn’t believe me.

“I haven’t!”

“No,” he says after a beat. “You just ripped my goddamn heart out of my chest.”

“W-what?” I gape at him, shocked.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t know,” he says, his voice a soft rasp. “I followed you everywhere. Christ, I couldn’t keep my goddamn eyes off you.” He laughs, a bitter, mocking laugh. “Your fucking brother thought I was looking at his girlfriend, but I never saw her. The only fucking thing I ever saw wasyou.”

“Jordan, I…”

He touches my cheek, muttering a curse. “Guess Jamison was right when he warned me that I’d lose everything if I didn’t keep my fucking mouth shut, wasn’t he, princess?”

“W-what?”

He sighs instead of answering. “Just go home, Sutton. I don’t have the answers you're looking for. I never did. And hell will freeze over before I help you with that prick.”

---