Page 73 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

He frowns. “You didn’t go after her?”

“How could I? She’s your little sister––”

“Yeah, and you fucked her,” he reminds me, the callousness in his words feeling like sandpaper against an open wound. “You think I’d prefer you hit it and quit it, treating her like you would anyone else on campus? Like some puck bunny? Fuck that, Theo. I’m not blind. I’ve known you’ve had a thing for her since we were kids. Why won’t you own up to it and date her for real?”

The idea of treating Blake like anything other than perfect leaves a sour taste in my mouth. “She isn’t a puck bunny.”

“Yeah, I know. So why’d you treat her like one?”

“I didn’t,” I argue. “Like I said. She left. I was gonna make things right. I was gonna tell you. I was gonna figure it out.” I take off my hat, squeezing the brim with my hands. “Things just got…complicated.”

“Have you talked to her since?” he asks.

I shake my head, defeat settling into my bones. “I dunno what to say. You know how she is. She’s stubborn. And when she’s decided something…”

“What do you think she’s decided?” He glances at me again.

“That I look at her like she’s a puck bunny.” The words cause my stomach to roll, voicing Blake’s and Colt’s concern alike.

“And?”

“And you know I’d never look at her like that,” I argue, offended he’d even assume such bullshit.

“How would you look at her?”

“She’s a friend, Colt.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but I swallow it back. “She’s always been a friend. I’ve always cared about her. Enjoyed spending time with her. It’s like…she’s one of the guys, I guess.”

“Until her freshman year of high school,” he clarifies. “Then you were an ass.”

“I wasn’t––”

“I know you were the one who beat the shit out of Tommy Thoreson for even thinking about asking her to prom.”

“She deserved someone better than Tommy Thoreson,” I defend.

“Someone like you?”

I sigh again and put my hat back on. “We both know I’m even worse than Tommy.”

With a low chuckle, he mutters, “With everyone else, sure. But with Blake?” He shrugs. “I dunno, man. You’ve always looked out for her. Cared about her.”

“That can’t happen anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Coach’s no fraternization policy.”

“So talk to him,” he offers. “Or you can tell me the truth.”

“Who said I’m lying?”

He tilts his head as if to say stop being a dipshit, then he says, “I know you, man.”

Fuck.

He’s right.

He does know me.

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