I groan again.Rory's seenmore violence—been thevictimof more violence—in her eighteen years than anywoman ever should.Than anypersonever should.And I lost my temper right in frontof her, hit her father, and got dragged away in goddamned handcuffsjust like her abusive ex the night before.The thought that shemight think I'm likehimmakes me feel physically ill.The realitythatIthink Imight be like him—or like my own father—makes me think that maybeshe was right to end it.
I lean my head back on theseat of the sofa from where I sit on the hotel room floor.Thetruth is I've doled out my share of violence.I used to get intofights all the time.I came precariously close to punching Dave—myfriend since Pee Wee football—just a few days ago.Right in frontof Rory too.In fact, she's the only reason Ididn'thit him.My name in hervoice—that's the only thing that snapped me out of it.
But I wouldneverhurt a girl.And Iwould never, ever, fuckingeverhurt Rory.
She knows that.
Doesn't she?
I open her contact cardand for the hundredth time slide my finger between the call andtext options before closing it again.I open my text conversationwith Kendall instead and reread the part where she assures me shewent to see Rory and that Rory is okay.
I sent her over there assoon as I found the note.As soon as I realized she'd gone.Thatshe'd left me without so much as sayingbyebecause she "didn't want towake" me.
Fuckingbullshit.
How the hell do I go backto being herfriendnow that I've kissed her?Now that I know how incredible shetastes.Her mouth… the rest of her.After beinginsideher.After watching her comeapart—hearing those sweet, sexy little sounds she makes when she'slosing control.When she'sgivingup control—tome.Knowing howmuch trust it would take for her to give herself to me like that,and hearing her call out my fucking name—knowing it was me who madeher feel that good.How can I just be her friend afterthat?After sleepingwith her in my arms.After telling her I fucking love her!Andhearing her say it back.
I feel fuckingdesolate.
But I have to pull myselftogether.Because Iamher friend—she said I was herbestfriend—and I at least have tosalvage that.Rory's been through hell, isstillgoing through hell, and sheneeds me right now, even if only as a friend.
Rory thinks he's going toget away with attacking her again.And why wouldn't she?He gotaway with it the last time.And this time, even after thedetectives' reassurances that he wouldn't get out, he was releasedon bail the very next day.But he's not the only one with apowerful father in the legal system, and the arraignment may beover, but there's still the trial.So if I have to beg a favor of afather I hate—one I haven't so much as spoken to since I kicked himout of his own house more than five years ago, then that's exactlywhat I'll do.Because no way will I let Rory be right this time.That motherfucker is getting jail time for what he did to my girl,I will make sure of it.
And then I remember onceagain—she's not my girl.
I wince.Fuck.It would be somuch easier to go back to seeing her as my friend—since we wereonly actually together foraday—if I ever really saw her as just afriend.But I know now that I've loved that girl for longer than Ieven realized.
My heart jumps into mythroat as my phone buzzes with a message.
And sinks into my stomachwhen I see it's just Tuck.Again.
The poor kid has no ideawhat to do with me; I've never given a damn about a girl before inmy life.We've been best friends since kindergarten, and right now,neither of us is recognizable to the other: Tuck—happy, in love,and in a committed relationship with Carl, and me—miserable over agirl.
I open thetext.
Cap we're gonna miss ourplane hurry up!
I sigh and peel myself offthe floor.I down one more shot of tequila for the road, stuffRory's fucking note into the pocket of my jeans, and haul my dufflebag over my shoulder.
I take one last look atthe room where she first kissed me, where I first kissed her.WhereI made love to her.
I sigh again.Made love.I won't lie,I'm far from a saint, I've never had trouble getting laid, but thatwas the first—and second and third—time I've ever donethat.
But it's also the roomwhere she ripped my heart out of my fucking chest and walked awayfrom whatever it was we were, whatever it was we were becoming.Without so much as looking back.But hey, at least she left afucking note.And that memory makes it easier to leave thisroom.
I join the group in thelobby and we pile into cabs to head to the airport.Everyone knowsRory was attacked in an alley.I think most of them also know wehooked up.But only Tuck, Carl, Andy, Tina, and I think Dave, knowthat the guy who attacked her was her ex-boyfriend and that ourhook up was more than just a casual hook up.At least at the time.Only Tuck and Carl know she broke my fucking heart.Everyone knowsI care about her, I think they've all known that for a while, so mymoping around like a depressed loser is easily explained away bystress over the assault.
We wait at the gate toboard the plane back to New York and I pull out my tablet to read.Anything to avoid a fucking conversation.I really don't feel likebullshitting right now.And every time Carl shoots me aninquisitive look, all I can think is she's probably reporting myevery move to Rory, and the last thing I want is to make her feelany worse by acting like I'm upset.God forbid I act the way Ifeel.But Rory has issues with guilt, and blaming herself for shitthat just isn't her fault, and hell if I'm going to add to that.Especially when I know this is all my own damned fault.Because howcould I expect her tohandlea relationship with someone who can't even keephis anger in check?Who's so fucking quick to throw punches?Mostgirls would run from that.A girl with Rory's history?
We never had a fightingchance.
I snicker sardonically atmy stupid fucking silent pun.Tuck raises his eyebrows at me and Ilook away.He must think I'm losing my damned mind.Hell, maybe Iam.
I offer to switch seatswith Carl on the plane so she can sit next to Tuck, and then againwith Andy so he can sit with Tina.In the end, I'm sitting next toa stranger, which is perfectly fine with me.
I'm tired as hell, but Idon't close my eyes.I know if I drift into sleep I'll onlyseeher.Eitherbeing strangled in an alley or screaming from a nightmare.
Or I'll see her long, softhair spread out on my pillow, her skin flushed, eyes shut, andmouth open, crying out my name as she falls apart beneathme.
