“She’s around all the time,” Valerie snaps, refocusing my attention back on my phone. On her.
Valerie is objectively hot. She has some mix of ancestry that left her with hazel eyes, creamy light brown skin, thick black hair that is halfway down her back, and an hourglass figure. But she’s too wrapped up in being famous, in documenting every second of her life for social media, selling every part of herself that she can.
And I’m not into it anymore.
“Nadine is around all the time because I can’t be. I don’t know why you’re so surprised. You were at my parents’ funeral. You were there,” I say, finally getting to the crux of the problem.
When I needed her, she wasn’t there.
In body, sure, but not in any real way.
She took no interest in my sister, didn’t help while I packed up my childhood home, and hasn’t bothered to even talk about any of it with me. She hasn’t once asked how I’m doing or feeling.
If she did, she’d know that I often cry in the shower and sometimes wake up in the middle of the night breathing hard with my heart beating in my ears, reliving the night of the accident. I dream of winning the race and Malcolm holding his cell phone out to me. That’s when I sit up straight in bed, my skin damp with sweat.
“I can’t take care of Paisley on my own,” I tell Valerie, and she huffs.
“She seems to be taking care of a lot more than Paisley.”
I rub my knuckle against my eye, thinking I’d like to take my contacts out. Valerie always hated when I wore my glasses. “I’m not going to argue about Nadine with you. This isn’t about her. It’s about us.”
“This is absolutely about her.”
“No. It’s you.”
On-screen, Valerie wrenches her head back. “Me? What did I do?”
I heave a sigh up to the night sky. “I’m in a different place in my life. I thought we might be able to stay together, but it’s not working for me anymore.”
“You’re kidding,” she says flatly.
“No.”
“This isn’t working foryouanymore? It’s not like you put all that much effort into it to begin with.”
That’s fair, but she hasn’t either. “I need more than you can give me right now.”
“You need more from me or fromher?”
When I don’t answer, Valerie shakes her head, lips pursed in an angry pout. “You’re going to regret this. When yourealize what you’re missing, you’re going to come crawling back.”
I don’t know what else to say besides, “Okay, Val. I’ve got to go.”
She hangs up before I can, and I spend a few minutes in the night air, letting it cleanse me with every breath. Valerie was the last piece of my past I needed to rid myself of. The former Camden Long was an arrogant prick. The new Camden Long is probably still an arrogant prick, but at least now he thinks about how his actions affect other people. Only, like, 75% arrogant prick.
Back inside, I check on the girls one more time, but I doubt they’ll be going to sleep anytime soon since they’re still wide awake in the media room, on to movie number two. But I don’t care. They can stay up all night if they want. It’s the most I’ve seen my sister smile since she moved here, and as long as she’s happy, they can do whatever they want.
I pass by Nadine’s closed bedroom door, half tempted to knock on it, but I’ve already asked so much of her today—hell, every day for the past few months—that I don’t want to disturb her peace.
Even though I know her feelings about me have changed, I don’t want to fuck up the good thing we have going by barging in there and doing what I want to do.
Fucking her up against the wall. Coming so deep inside her that my DNA will be dripping out of her for weeks.
I tug off my sweatshirt as soon as I step into my bedroom, on the opposite side of the penthouse. My skin is a little too hot, a familiar tingle building in my spine when I think about Nadine’s thighs smeared with my come. Marking her with it. Claiming her as mine.
I’ve never been one to care much for making a mess. Physically or with feelings. It was easier to hook up with women who only cared about being with me because of who I was. Didn’t take much for them to get on their knees or hike up their skirt.Relationships went as far as I let them, only until I was tired of what they could give me.
I didn’t care about making them happy or reciprocating orgasms. I didn’t have to.
