I look away to shield myself from the agony in his eyes. It’s impossible to understand this man. Why does he look like he’s in so much pain when I’m clearly expendable? He has the whole campus drooling over him. He can find sex elsewhere. He did, goddamn it.
I shrug. "I didn't enjoy myself. I'm sorry if you're not the sex god you thought you were." The words slip from my lips of their own volition, and oh God, I wish I had more control over myself. I’m being petty and cruel again.
Why can’t I just be honest with him? Why can’t I admit that he hurt me?
It’s so easy to write the pain of others in my fanfic, but admitting my own makes me want to crawl into a ball on the ground.
“You know that’s not what happened.” I jump at the sudden vehemence in his voice. “Something pissed you off. Someone told you something."
My throat squeezes. Is he implying thatHarpertold me something? "So you admit you’re hiding something?”
He flinches, his face growing somehow even more gaunt. Damn, he really does look awful. Has he gotten as little sleep as I have?
"Yeah, I'm not perfect," he says. "I've done some things…" His mouth tightens. "But everything I've said to you has been the truth. When I told you that you mean a lot to me…"
I cross my arms over my chest, rage boiling in my gut.
Tell him what you know, Amy. Don’t let fear and dread guide your actions.
The words won’t come.
"Enough to make a bet with your whole fraternity that I'll sleep with you?” I ask instead.
His groan sounds like a wounded animal. “Fuck, I hate that I did that. It didn’t mean what you probably think it did.”
His hand slips from my wrist to my shoulder, but he doesn't let go. No doubt he'd have me in his arms in an instant if I try to run away again.
"I made that bet on an impulse," he says. "I never gave a shit about it. All I've cared about—from the beginning—is you."
My body grows heavy. After weeks of being close to this man, it’s really starting to seem like he never had a calculated plan to humiliate me.
Maybe sleeping with Harper was an impulse, just like the bet. Maybe Tristan isn’t the villainous monster I imagined the night Harper came to my dorm and showed me that picture of him in bed. Maybe he’s a quintessential, thoughtless fuckboy. Someone who can sincerely tell someone he cares for them and then fuck the brains out of his ex only hours later.
Somehow, that’s almost worse.
I like imagining the villainous monster better. At least I could hate him then, and hatred would feel so much better than this dreary listlessness pulling at my limbs.
My phone chimes.
"Two minutes are up." My voice is just above a whisper.
Tristan's eyes flash. "That's it? That's all you're going to give me? You haven't even admitted that you came to my room that night with the sole purpose of crushing me."
I sigh. "I'll see you at the hike tomorrow. In the meantime, please stay away. No picking me up and carrying me away. No showing up on my date?—”
My lips freeze when Tristan’s entire body stiffens, his sunken face turning a ghostly shade of white. His eyes widen, and his grip on my shoulder grows uncomfortably tight. “What date?” The word is breathless and empty.
Why the fuck did I even say that? The petty, teenage girl must still live within me. She froze in time the moment Harper broke my heart, like the preserved ruins of Pompei, and now she’s lashing out at Tristan.
“I don’t have one,” I say quickly. “I just meant…because you did that before. You showed up on my date with Seth.”
His shoulders slump, and the grip on my shoulder loosens. “But you will have dates.” His voice shakes. “You’ll leave me behind after the game is over. If I’m out of the picture, you’ll have guys falling all over themselves to be with you.”
If I weren’t on the verge of tears, I would probably laugh at such hyperbole. Is this how he sees me? So desirable that I’ll have to fight off dozens of men pursuing me? My dreary inner world would fill with radiant light if I saw myself through his eyes.
Holy shit, am I really thinking this way about the quintessential fuckboy? His charisma really is a form of sorcery. Here I am falling under his spell again when I know for a fact that he slept with Harper.
His jaw clenches, and a fire enters his eyes. “If I’m not the guy you’re with, I can’t stand around and watch. Until you’re ready to talk, you’ll get your wish. I’m going to have to avoid you.”
