Page 27 of The Vengeance You Crave
I stare at her, my heart aching in my chest.
I hate how things turned out between us. I hate that she's now with that jerk. But what can I really do about it? She was never meant to be mine. I think deep down I always knew that, but I really wanted to believe that she was here for me.
Turns out fate had other ideas because she just put her and Kane in the same place, allowing them to sort their shit out. Although not before making me want to end the motherfucker for the way he treated her. And I know for a fact that I only know the basics of the situation.
Reaching up, I wrap my hand around the back of my neck as she steps into the enclosed space a little more.
The elevator jolts as we begin our ascent, and her scent fills my nose.
"I-I'm good. You?" I hate the awkwardness, and I know that most of it—hell, all of it—is because of me.
"Y-yeah. Things are really good." Unable to stop it, a soft smile spreads across her face, I assume, as she thinks about Kane.
Asshole.
"I'm glad."
We fall into an uncomfortable silence and I hate it. I hate everything that's happened between us. After Peyton left Rosewood all those years ago, Letty turned up like a fucking angel. I was in a bad place when our teacher decided that I'd be the perfect partner for the new girl. Fuck knows what he was thinking. Maybe he hoped she'd be a good influence on me because hell knows I was fucking up all over the place back then. Even my place on the team was at risk at one point when I was caught skipping, preferring to go to the beach to get fucked up instead of dealing with the fact I'd been betrayed and abandoned by my best friend.
My lips part to say something, but I can't find the words I want to say to her. An apology doesn't seem enough after all the shit I've put her through.
She's tried to reach out to me time and time again, and I've only pushed her farther away. It's probably best for her in the long run if I do.
I think it's pretty obvious that Kane and I are never going to see eye to eye, and I'm not sure where that leaves a friendship between us.
"Luc?" she whispers after what feels like the longest silence of my life.
Dragging my eyes from my feet, I look at her. My breath catches at how happy she looks, despite the concern that's currently causing a frown to mar her brow.
"I-I'm sorry," I whisper, utterly defeated where Letty is concerned.
Her eyes hold mine. The sparkle that was within them when she first stepped into the elevator has vanished, replaced with worry, pity even, and I hate it.
"Luc, it's—"
I suck in a breath waiting to hear the words I don't deserve from her when the doors open and reveal a large group of students waiting to get inside.
Silently, we move past the group and make our way down to our lit class.
Seeing as we're both late, the professor has already started and we both slip inside and find the first two empty seats we can, side by side.
It's the closest I've been to her in weeks, and I can't deny that it feels good to have her there.
Everything in my life is fucked beyond belief right now. I know most of that is my fault, and that the situation we've found ourselves in is entirely on me. But I'm starting to wonder if it's time to put it all behind me. Letty is the least of my concerns now that Peyton is in town.
She's happy. I can see that without even having to ask her. A few weeks ago, I was drowning in jealousy that she'd found in Kane what I wanted to give her.
I have no idea what our professor is saying, and seeing as it's our first class of the semester, I really should be paying attention. With the season over, it's time for me to get some credits in the bag but I can’t find it in me to focus.
My plan was always to graduate before I started playing pro football. It's just a shame that wasn't everyone's plan for me.
If Dad had his way, I'd be in this year's draft. First pick, obviously. But even if I did enter this year, I never would have been first after the season we just saw the back of.
It was embarrassing, and I know the responsibility for the clusterfuck lands on my shoulders. All the guys are pissed. I can see that just from looking at them. None of them have outwardly blamed me, but I know they do.
I fucked up. I dropped the ball—literally and figuratively. I totally lost sight of what was important as Kane stole the girl from under my feet.
But she was never my girl, was she?
