Page 16 of Fabulous Filthy Friend

FLYNN

The pain in my chest intensifies, like a knife has been shoved into my heart and twisted round and round, shredding every bit of it until there’s nothing left but a bleeding mess that used to hold my soul.

That’s what hurting Rachel does to me.

Seeing her tears.

Hearing the anguish in her shaking voice.

The concern for me.

The last thing I want to do is cause her any pain, but the more she keeps poking at me, the closer I get to coming out and saying what’s really bothering me. And the conversation with Mom over coffee only made things worse. That woman knows me far too well and sees way too much. Every time she brings up Rachel and me getting together, it’s like placing another nail in the coffin. Her whispered words before she left were like lowering me down six feet below.

Tell her how you feel.

Like it’s that easy. Like everything will simply fall into place once I confess my undying love for her.

It couldn’t be further from the truth.

I know Rach too well, and I am not what she wants.

And Rachel pushing me like this isn’t going to help. All it does is force me to realize how much I need her. How much I need her friendship. How I won’t be able to survive if anything comes between us. And my feelings for her already are. They’re making me hurt her and push her away when all I want to do is draw her close and never let her go.

I need to quash them.

Pretend they never existed.

Move the fuck on so I never have to see this anguish on her beautiful face again.

Though, she’s doing that for me by turning away and staring out the window.

She has every reason to be mad. I didn’t mean to snap at her. I didn’t mean to act like I don’t appreciate her concern, but what do I do when the source of all my distress is the person trying to make it better?

The woman who holds my heart in her hands sighs, and the sound goes straight to my soul. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, Flynn, but even your mom noticed something was wrong. I wish you would just tell me what it is so I can fix it.”

I pull into my driveway and slam on the brakes, throwing my car into park a little more aggressively than I intended. “What’s wrong is that you won’t leave it alone right now. What’s wrong is that you keep asking and asking and asking, and I keep saying that I don’t want to talk about it, but you keep pushing and it’s only aggravating me. Sometimes, I just need to be alone with my thoughts and to breathe without you forcing me to talk.”

Because if I talk…I’m going to say things I can’t take back that will make you run away forever.

Her eyes widen, and tears slip down her cheeks. “Because I care about you, Flynn, because I want to help with whatever you’re going through.”

That’s such a Rachel thing, too. Helping. Wanting to make things better. It makes it even harder not to grab her and kiss the hell out of her. The only way to keep myself from doing that is to do the opposite. To get away from her as fast as I can until I can control myself again.

“Right now, you’re only making it worse, Rach. Please, just leave it alone.” I throw open my door, climb from the car, and stalk away from my best friend, without a glance back. If I look and see the hurt I caused that I know is there, I might cave. I might tell her everything.

And then where would I be?

Alone, without the woman I love or my best friend. With the only people to keep me company being those who pay to watch me jerk off on the damn website.

It feels like I can’t win anymore.

I unlock and push open the front door, then slam it shut behind me. Pressing my back against the hard wood, I squeeze my eyes closed and suck in several deep breaths that do nothing to ease the pain in my chest or the churning of my gut.

Walking away from her when she’s so upset might break me. I smash my fists back against the door and shove away from it. Hard steps bring me down the hall to my room, and I fall onto the bed and bury my face into my pillow.

Bringing her with me to church was a bad idea. All it did was make things that had been building up spill over, and I have no idea how to put them back in that jar I had carefully placed them in.

The worst part is she’s totally right about bottling things up inside. I saw the way she struggled with her dad’s illness. And the fact that Jameson wouldn’t see him one last time. Wouldn’t clear the air or offer him forgiveness. Not that he needed to. You can’t force someone to do that, but Rachel is so damn sweet, so caring that she didn’t want her father to die without making amends. And while she was able to do that with Bash, Jameson is more stubborn, and she worries about how it will affect him in the future.

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