Page 90 of Filthy Little Pretties
“Ignore Grey. Look at me, Van.” Liam’s voice is tender with her, but she doesn’t listen. That beautiful face stays on mine as he continues, and I see it—everything I already fucking knew.
“We need to talk. Air it all out,” he says to the back of her head.
“God, and I thought having one boyfriend sounded awful.”
“Shut up, Caroline,” is said in unison by the three of us.
Donovan holds up her hands and steps in close to both of us, forcing us backward, before reaching behind herself and shutting the car door.
“I don’t have it in me to fight.” That’s directed at me. “Not here on the sidewalk for the world to see. I gave you each a conversation and explanations last night, but let’s be honest, there’s nothing I can say that will appease you. This is spiraling into some bad shit. And frankly, I could use a break from thinking about you. I’ve earned it.”
Her words are fierce and determined, a well-placed mask to hide her nerves. God, she’s fucking beautiful, and strong. Right and true. And if she’d let us happen, I would remind her every day until she got tired of hearing it. But instead, she’s letting her bullshit stand in our way.
I’m not competing with Liam for Donovan. I’m battling her.
Liam caves and leans in kissing her cheek, pulling her into a hug. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that, Van.”
Her face turns to mine, in his arms, turning to me fully when he releases her, but I don’t move. We stand there staring at each other on opposite sides of this mess. If she’s choosing not to risk herself for me, then I won’t give myself to her. Everything we want to say stays silent until she answers my thoughts.
“I don’t want to lose you, Grey.”
Maybe that’s exactly what you need.
I bend down, cradling her face and brushing my lips against hers before whispering into them, “You did the moment you chose.”
Donovan pushes my hand away, causing her oversized sunglasses to drop on her face, and I’m frozen in place. Her eyes lock to mine, slowing my breathing, because they’re rimmed in red and afraid. I warned her I wouldn’t make this easy.
“I’m not choosing. That’s the point. I want it to stay us. Why are you being cruel?”
“Cruel is choosing yourself over me. I would never do that to you. It’s always you. Always.”
“Grey,” Liam barks, but she’s already retreating.
He shoves my shoulder, but I don’t move, watching her get into the limo as Liam tries to talk to her, but it’s no use. The door clicks, and the limo slowly pulls from the curb, but I know she’s looking out, right at me.
Sometimes you have to feel the loss to know what’s important, Cherry.And if she feels anything like me right now, it’s like a fire poker to the heart because—I love her.
Goddammit. I love the girl.
Donovan
THE POP FROM THE BOTTLEdoesn’t steal my attention until the fizzing champagne begins to spill over. My head turns away from the window, the one I’ve been staring out of since I pulled away from Grey, and I try to smile, but it feels like a burden. Caroline squeals as Kai tries to minimize the decadent disaster by slurping from the bottle. It’s a picture-perfect moment, but all I feel is regret.
This is the exact place I didn’t want to be. But here I am, alone in a car with people I’m not really friends with because I need to keep from bottoming out over the ones I’ve lost. That’s not wholly true—I still have Liam—but Grey, he’s bigger than any one person, or maybe I’ve just always built him up to be.
That place of deity gives him power. The kind he’s holding over me right now after saying what he said. I know he’s angry, and a part of me knows I’m to blame, but we’re all guilty of smudging the lines until it was impossible not to cross them. I’m at fault for not being stronger because I wanted them. Because I want him.
It’s like trying to hold your breath when you’re a kid. Eventually, you break and your body forces a breath—an involuntary reaction to a bad idea. Grey’s the bad idea, and my attention is the involuntary reaction. I could no more stop breathing than ignore him.
I pick at my bracelets, worried. He doesn’t mean what he said. He can’t mean it. Grey’s just saying it to call my bluff because he knows the idea of being void of him will make me admit to myself everything that I hate to feel—desperate and so fucking weak for him.
He’s playing a dirty game, but I don’t know what I expected. He’s Grey fucking McCallister; strategy is his birthright. Fuck. I don’t want to think about this anymore. No more Grey. No more Liam. Not today.
Kai hands me a glass as Caroline looks at me like she’s reading every thought. She probably is, but I don’t care anymore. I’m done giving a shit about anything anymore.
“Drink? You look like you could use one.”
Smiling as my fingers pluck the glass from him, I throw it back with a determined insistence toward my new goal of numbness. The bubbles slide down my throat, and I hold out the flute for a refill as soon as it’s dry.
