“No.” She shakes her head and relief fills me, until she adds more. “I can’t keep doing this, Zane. You gave me whiplash inthere. Pushing me away and then fingering me in public. I may not want to be a princess, but I deserve the world. And if I’m notyourworld, then what are we doing here?”
What? “You know you’re my world, B.”
“Do I?”
“Yes, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Oh, okay. Let’s go and tell Cade then.” She holds out her hand for me to take, but all I can do is stare down at it, unable to tell her yes or no. I can’t sayyes, because I don’t want to tell him, but I can’t saynoeither. Because the second I do she’s going to walk away.
And I’m not sure she’s coming back.
“Well?” She drops her hand and crosses her arms over her chest.
I’ve fucked up. I know. But I can’t…
I stay silent and she scoffs, shaking her head. “Find me when you grow up, and stay away from me for the rest of the night.”
My heart jolts as she storms off in a huff, and I bang my head against the shed, kicking the empty boxes lining the yard. Fucking Cade and his closeted asshole ways. If she really knew how he was going to react, she’d never once question me.
But maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s time for me to grow up and choose—my best friend or my world.
Not a hard decision really.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Blair
AGE SEVENTEEN
My hair falls in my face when I flop back onto my bed, and rather than pushing it out of the way like one normally would, I spend the next ten minutes trying to blow it off my face. My arms aren’t working.
I can’t believe I listened to my dad about “working out my frustrations.” I’m dying. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to function at all today.
“You okay in there, kiddo?” my dad calls out, his knuckles rapping against the half-open door.
“No. I’m dead. Your workout killed me.”
“But are you still pissed off?” He chuckles, smart enough to stay on his side of the threshold, because if I could, I’d throw something at his face.
“I’m more pissed off now than I was yesterday. I’m pissed off with the world this time.”
“That’s good. At least you’re not laser focused on one thing…or person?” His voice lifts in question and it actually makes me laugh.
“I’m still not going to tell you, Dad.”
“Fine. What about your mom?”
“Nope. This is between me and the thing or person I’m annoyed with.”
“Yeah. Okay. Well, if the workout didn’t help, what about a walk? When I was younger, I used to find hiking helped to clear my head.”
“Hiking?” I mull over that idea, picturing the trail near the beach not too far from our house, the one that’s usually shaded, and this time I smile. “That definitely sounds better than your workout torture. I’ll try it tomorrow. If I can use my legs.”
“You’ll be fine. A good workout never killed anyone.”
“How do you know? If they’re dead they can’t tell anyone it was the exercise that killed them.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. “Do you need anything before your mom and I head out?”
