But still, if he tracked me down in Miami, he certainly could find my number if he really wanted to.
I shift in line at the food court, my fingers tapping against my thigh as I wait to order. The place is packed with the usual lunch crowd, all chattering and laughing like they don't have a care in the world.
Must be nice.
The guy behind the counter clears his throat. "You gonna order or just stand there all day?"
"Right. Sorry. Grilled cheese and a strawberry milkshake."
He gives me a weird look, probably judging my life choices. Whatever. It might be freezing outside, but my comfort drink is the only reliable thing in my life right now.
Well, that and how fucking lonely I feel.
Shit. Is my life ever going to be easy, stable?
We don’t always get what we want.
My father’s words reverberate for a few seconds, but I shove them away.
Fuck him. Because some people do get what they want. So why the hell can’t that be me for a change?
Redirecting my thoughts, I think of Eli, who’s been buried in some massive art project. And when he's not sculpting, he's off visiting his boyfriend in New Jersey. And Raiyne's got an insane hockey schedule, just like Zach, though we've been texting.
Turns out forgiveness comes easier when you're lonely as fuck.
Speaking of insane hockey schedules, the damn Titans have been on the road playing away games. Not that I've been keeping track or anything. It's just . . . hard not to notice when your stepbrother-slash-whatever-the-fuck-he-is disappears after basically claiming your throat as his personal playground.
And the worst part?
The way my body responds to him like it's been waiting for him all along. The way my heart does this stupid flutter thing whenever I think about him. Not sexually, but . . . something deeper.
For fuck’s sake, we actually cuddled and fell asleep. And it was so goddamn peaceful.
Until I woke up and he was gone.
What if this is all part of Zach’s new revenge plan? If making me fall for him, then crushing my heart into dust is just another way to watch me bleed. Because goddammit . . . it’s already working.
Ireallyneed Eli to come home so I can talk to him.
My order arrives, and I grab my tray before checking out. The cashier rings me up, and I hand over my card, trying not to think about how pathetic my social life has become.
I walk into the court and scan for an empty table so I can drown my sorrows in some strawberry deliciousness when I spot Zach. He’s sitting with his friends near the windows, looking unfairly hot in a maroon Henley that stretches across his broad shoulders.
So, they’re back.
My eyes narrow as I glare at him. Not that he notices, too wrapped up in whatever conversation he’s having.Then Viktor-fucking-Novotny grabs my stepbrother’s milk carton and takes a sip.
Oh, hell no.
I slam my tray onto an empty table and stomp over. Viktor hands the carton back to Zach, both of them completely oblivious to the storm headed their way.
Not today, Satan. Not. Fucking. Today.
Just as Zach's about to take a drink, I smack the carton out of his hand. Milk splatters across the floor, the carton spinning in a sad little arc before coming to a stop.
“What the fuck?” Zach’s eyes narrow as he stares up at me.
Ignoring him, I place my hands on the tabletop and lean closer, glaring right at Viktor, wishing I had laser vision so I could incinerate the bastard. “Maybe keep your mouth off things that aren’t yours.”
