Page 85 of Beautiful, Violent

“Tove,” he grinds out.

I ignore him, slam the door shut, start the engine.

I put the car in reverse and Rigger darts out of the way right before I hit the gas and squeal tires. Every emotion I’ve ever experienced comes rushing at me as I pull out of the parking lot.

Rigger. Kissing me like that.

Leaving me.

Leaving the continent.

Leaving the state, for good.

And wanting me to do the same, knowing how I feel about Ben, about wanting to get close to him.

Unbelievable.

He could have any woman he wants.Anywoman. Why me? Why does he want to destroy our friendship like this?

Why the hell is he trying to complicate things for me?

With no warning and no ability on my part to stop it, I break down in sobs so badly I have to pull into a Circle K and into a parking space. My tires hit the curb and before I put it in park, my head falls to the steering wheel and I shake all over as I cry. And cry some more. And even more still.

My heart feels like it’s toppling end over end and I struggle to catch my breath. I think about the kiss, the way Rigger’s tongue danced with mine very briefly, how Ilet him do it.

And how I grew hot inside, need darting through every inch of my body.

“God,” I groan, lightly punching the side of the steering wheel. He’s a good kisser. A damn good kisser. My body responded to it, to him. And that’s what makes me so goddamn angry.

Everything has changed now. And for what?

I catch my breath as a Demi Lovato song streams through the XM radio. Remembering my phone dinged moments ago I get it out and look at the screen.

It’s Ben.

My heart lurches into my throat and I can’t open his message fast enough.

Just checking in … how did things go with your dad?

I start typing my reply.

Weird. He didn’t know anything about him/her. Says it must be my mom’s kid.

How are you?

I toss my phone aside, look in the visor mirror, wipe the smeared mascara away from underneath my eyes, then head into the Circle K for a ginger ale to settle my stomach.

When I get back to my car I see a piece of paper tucked underneath the wipers. I glance around the lot and see Rigger pulling out.

Huffing, I get out and snatch the paper from the strip of rubber that’s holding it down and open it up. It’s the receipt from the lunch we just had and he’s written something on the back with a pencil. I can barely read it.

Tove. Please. I’m just trying to look out for you. Ben … he’s not the one. Just talk to me.

It feels like bricks are lining my stomach. How can he know if Ben is the one or not? Does he have a crystal ball? I fall back into my car, crumple the paper and throw it in the back seat, then look at my phone.

Ben has replied.

I’m okay. Busy morning. About to head out for a late lunch.

---