Page 98 of Heart Sick Hate

I grip her chin between my thumb and forefinger to cut her off. “Don’t you dare say what’s on the tip of your tongue until you’re ready to admit why you really came to me. This wasn’t about your virginity, and you fucking know it. You and me, we’re bigger than this bullshit, but it won’t stop you from making a mess of it anyway.”

“I was clear about this.”

“Clear as fucking mud.” I let her go.

I’ve hated Echo for a lot of things. For how she’s tempting and annoying. For how I can’t get her out of my orbit like I can’t get her out of my head. But the lies spilling out of her right now make me hate her more than anything else.

“I don’t understand why you care.” Her shoulders deflate, and I think as tough as she is, she genuinely means it. “Crew—”

“It’s fine.” I step back, putting some distance between us like it’ll help. “Go back to your party. You’ve got an engagement to celebrate.”

“It’s not real.”

“Neither is this, apparently.” And it fucking hurts.

Her fingers tighten their hold, and I wish it meant something. “I made a promise. I’m doing what’s right. I don’t know how to do this any differently.”

“Then come to me. Not him.Me.” I step toward her. “Let me fucking help you. But you won’t. Either because you don’t trust me or some other reason. This back and forth is fucking with both of us. Just when I think…”

But I can’t finish that sentence. I can’t admit it to her and open myself up to that.

“I need some air.” I step back, and she releases me. “Figure out what it is you want. But I’m not doing this shit right now.”

She’s Goldilocks.MyGoldilocks. But in this moment, I have to walk away from her before she sees what she’s doing to me. Even if nothing can clean up the mess she’s made.

29

Crew

Crew: Fuck you

Paul: What crawled up your ass and died?

Crew: Why am I getting blasted with texts of Mandi’s tits

Paul: Fail to see the issue

Crew: She’s my employee

Paul: And? This have anything to do with Oakland?

Crew: No

Paul: Whatever you say, boss

Crew: Just do your job. I’m blocking Mandi. She’s your problem again

Paul: You say that like it’s a problem

I toss my phone onto the counter and pour myself a shot. Then I double it and drain it down my throat like it can solve myproblems.

If distractions could get rid of this knot in my gut, I’d be jacking off to pictures of Mandi’s fake tits right now. One look, and I deleted them because I couldn’t care less. She’s not Echo. No one is. And I’m the idiot who let this happen.

I lift the whiskey bottle, considering another shot, and draining it straight from the bottle instead. I’d like to take a bath in it. Drown in it. Let it either eliminate my thoughts or kill me. At least then I wouldn’t have to keep seeing the image of Rhett’s lips on Echo’s mouth.

Sealing my eyes shut, I try to take a match to that image. In the six months they’ve been together, they’ve held hands. He’s put his arm around her. Kept her at his side. But it was fake—nothing. Until tonight.

Until he kissed what’s mine.

---