Page 449 of Rock Me All Night
"Did you forgive him?"
"No, but I told him I did."
"You shouldn't have. You should have let the guilt eat away at him until he couldn't fucking breathe." Pete directs his gaze to the window. "You earn forgiveness. You don't get engaged."
Concern creeps into Tom's expression. "You're fucking with me."
Pete's voice is flat and lifeless. "Nope."
"What could she possibly see in Kyle?" Tom asks. "You're richer, hotter, funnier, smarter—"
"They're in love." Pete's voice fills with disdain. "They couldn't help it."
"She cheated on you?" I ask.
He nods.
"I'm sorry," I say.
Pete expression is blank. "Should have ended it a while ago."
"She doesn't deserve you," Tom says.
But that's not what Pete needs.
I shift into the seat next to Tom and whisper into his ear. "Reminding him of that is only going to make it hurt worse."
Tom swallows hard. He brings his mouth to my ear. "Gotta do something."
"You should leave him alone," I say.
"You guys know I can see you, right?" Pete shakes his head. "If you're gonna whisper, whisper about the things you want to do to each other. I'm fine. Tom, you should worry about yourself for once."
"I don't worry," Tom says.
Pete rolls his eyes. "Hope you're taking this seriously. Cause Denton will fucking kill you if you're just playing around."
"I know."
"One hundred percent chance he leaves the band if you fuck this up," Pete says.
"I'm not a possession or a child. Why don't I get a say in this?" I fold my arms over my chest. I hate that I'm pouting, but I've had enough of being protected.
"You want a say, talk to your brother. How would you like him fucking your best friend and keeping it a secret from you?" Pete asks.
A fair counter-argument.
"Pete." Tom's voice wavers.
"It's fine."
"You were with her six years. How can it be fine?"
"I don't need your help, Sticks." Pete pulls his hoodie over his head and turns to face away from us.
It's about as final as it gets.
Tom gets out of his seat and goes back to pacing. He can't stand doing nothing. That much is obvious.
