Page 52 of Between the Flames

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

Pacing my dark bedroom, I stared down at the stained carpet my landlord didn’t bother replacing, as the entire night replayed in my head. I was so enraged about everything that had happened, and I felt like a fool. The moment I stepped out of the men’s room, my eyes instantly found Elle from across the room, only to find him sitting in my chair, touching my woman. She was letting him touch her.

I watched as she turned her face away from him, but made no move to remove his hand. My fists balled up at my sides and it had taken every fiber of my being not to walk right up to the guy and rip his head off.

I had forced myself to stay back.

To watch.

To see how this exchange played out.

And I didn’t fucking like what I saw.

It had been a mistake asking her if she’d fucked him. I shouldn’t have. I didn’t need to. The answer was obvious by the way he pawed at what was mine, but the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Foolish. I have been so incredibly dim-witted when it came to this woman. For so long, I had been stagnant in my relationship that I have completely forgotten how to act when it comes to a new relationship. Hell, I never even really had the chance to learn how to act in a new relationship, considering how young I was when I met Lily. I felt like a fish out of water, and I didn’t fucking like it.

I should have followed Elle after she stormed out of my truck, but my anger held me back. I had apologized for my behavior, and she tossed that apology back at me before slamming the door in my face. How was I in the wrong here? I wasn’t the one who let some girl have her hands all over me.

What provoked me the most wasn’t the past relationships, or even that she had a run in with one of them. It was that she was mine, but she was still letting someone else touch her.

No one fucking touches what’s mine.

Maybe I should have followed her into her house. Should I have continued to push for a resolution to the fight?

I raked my hands over my face and growled in frustration, the error of my choice hitting me like a ton of bricks.

Maybe I overreacted—I should have given her a chance to explain.

Maybe I read the situation wrong.

Fuck.

Did I fuck up?

My heart pounded in the cavity of my chest as I moved to reach for my phone on the nightstand, my fingers connecting with the smooth glass of the screen. I yanked it off the charger, nearly toppling over the jug of water that sat next to it. I sank down onto my bed, feverishly dialing her number. Listening to the ringing while I waited was torture.

Please pick up.

“Hey! This is Elle. Please leave a message…” I disconnected the call before hurling the phone across the room. It slammed into the wall, falling with a sharp thud on the floor.

I fucked up.

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