Page 8 of Toxic

Fuck this. I'm wasting time.

I excuse myself and approach her. She's talking to two of my mamma's friends. I reach for her elbow, and she freezes. Turning on the charm, I grin. "If you'll excuse us, all our old high school friends are waiting to see Bridget."

"Oh, yes. Of course," one of the ladies replies.

The other one nods.

Bridget says, "No, I'm—"

"They're going to come in here and ruin my parents' party if you don't go," I lie, then lead Bridget out of the room before she can say anything else. I don't hang out with anyone from high school. There's not one person I find interesting, and my life has responsibilities. I highly doubt any of them could ever understand.

Those responsibilities are exactly why I shouldn't be doing this,I reprimand myself but then push it away.

I'm not going to be a coward anymore.

As soon as we step out of the ballroom, Bridget spins and shirks out of my grasp, firing darts so sharp, it's like I can feel them. "What. Do. You. Want. Dante?"

My stomach dives. I knew she hated me. But it's not the reaction I was looking for. What did I expect though? Did I really believe she would just forget I was a complete jackass all these years? I reply, "I'll tell you in a minute," then return to leading her away.

"Dante, let me go," she seethes.

I steer her into the den and lock the door.

"What are you doing?" she snaps.

"How are you?"

"I'm good. No, I'm great. Now get out of my way." She tries to shove me off the door, but I spin her against it.

She gapes, and an angry fire explodes in her expression.

I press as close to her as possible. "I've missed you. I'm sorry for what I did—for everything."

She laughs. It's a sarcastic, hurt-filled laugh that makes me cringe. "Sorry? I've heard that before. Now get out of my way."

I don't. I can't. No matter how mad at me she is, I have to make this right. I slide my hands over her cheeks. I order, "Come home. I'll right every wrong I've ever done to you. There will be no more girls, no more shit, just you and me."

She huffs, her lips quivering. "Sure, Dante. And the moment I break up with my boyfriend, you'll take a rain check. I know your game. I'm not interested, and I'm not breaking up with Sean."

The hairs on my arms rise. I didn't know she had a boyfriend, but of course she does. She's the catch of a lifetime. I'm sure she has numerous guys on campus chasing her.

Is he why she didn't come home for Thanksgiving?

My chest tightens so much I can't breathe. I grit my teeth. "I don't know who Sean is, but he's not good enough for you."

Her eyes turn to slits. "He's more of a man than you'll ever be."

Her words knock into me like a right hook to my face. My stomach dives, and my insides quiver like an upset baby. "Listen to me, Bridge. Whoever this college boy is—"

"He's not in college. And don't call me Bridge. Don't act like we're friends. You lost the right to call me anything but Bridget."

Everything about this conversation is worse than I thought it would be. I angrily ask, "So some rich businessman is over there taking advantage of you?"

Her eyes turn to slits. "You would think that."

"What's that mean?"

"It means, I don't care about any of the superficial crap all those people in our high school do. You know, those people who you had to impress." More anger radiates off her, but I can't deny her statement, which only makes me loathe my previous actions further.

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