‘I can’t wrap my head around this,’ I choke out, unable to control the tears and the shake in my voice.
‘He’ll be okay. He needs to get away for a while, do his own thing, and then he’ll be back. It’ll be like he never left.’
‘Yeah,’ I say, my voice sounding far away, unlike my own.
‘I have to go. Let’s meet for coffee tomorrow. I’ll text you.’
My brother hangs up before I can say a word, and my phone slips from my hand.
He left.
Choking on ragged breaths, I wipe and wipe at my cheeks, trying to rid the flood of tears, but it’s no use. They keep coming, clogging my nose, my throat, my lungs. I can’t see. I can’t fucking breathe.
He leftme.
All of this – years of banter, tension, lingering stares, forbidden touches. All gone after he got his one thing from me. The only thing he cared about.
Every word. Every touch. Every kiss.
It was all a lie.
I’m naive and so damn stupid; I want to scream. He had me in the palm of his hand and tossed me aside once he was done with me. My best friend. The person who consumed not just my mind, but my heart. Gone. No goodbye.
Nothing.
My lungs burn. My chest heaves. Each inhale is like an icy needle stabbing into my heart, over and over. My soul feels broken. Crushed. Demolished.
He promised me we would be together. He promised me this was real.
He promised ...
Collapsing back into my bed, the tears spill down my cheeks and into my mouth, making me feel like I might just drown in them. Turning, I roll onto my side, staring at the photo frame perched on my bedside table. It’s a set of three. In the final photo, Mason has me in his arms, bridal style. He’s staring down at me, and I’m beaming at the camera, my hand thrown up into a peace sign. Sobbing, I bury my face into the pillow, letting the pain eat at me until there is nothing left.
35
ANYA
HE KISSES ME LIKEthis is our first time together and time is running out. Hard, fast and passionate. All at once, everywhere, claiming every inch of my body with his lips. I groan as he drops me back onto the mattress. Needily, I yank my shirt up over my head and slingshot it across the room, wanting no fabric or material on my body right now. Or on his.
With his mouth on mine, he fumbles for my pants, and I help him, yanking them down my thighs. He peels them off me, tossing them over his shoulder. His shirt is next to follow, and I trail my hands down the hard muscles on his chest and stomach. He shudders underneath my touch, a broken breath escaping him as my hands inch lower. Kicking off his pants, he dumps them at the bottom of the bed. Our mouths move back together in a frenzy; our hands wildly explore each other desperately, but we savour each touch.
‘Are you sure?’ he breathes, pulling back. His whisky eyes stare intently into mine as he checks to see if I really want this. ‘Is this the best time for ... this?’
‘I need to forget everything,’ I plead. ‘I’ve wanted this for a long time.’ The corner of my mouth lifts. ‘Besides, you sort of owe me ... since last time was so ...’ I shrug, making a face of disappointment.
‘Oh, you’re going to regret that,’ he growls, flattening me onto my back.
I flip us, so that I’m straddling his waist. My lips move to his chest, and I drag my tongue down across the tattoos that cover him. ‘Where’s my tattoo?’ I pant, staring up at him as I continue exploring his stomach with my tongue.
He moves his arm, revealing the curve of his bicep. ‘Right here.’
I look up, and my eyes land on the wordAlwayswritten in cursive, tucked between a variety of other tattoos. My mouth drops open as I stare at it. My throat feels tight, and my eyes threaten to tear up.
‘Oh my God,’ I whisper. ‘That was ... a joke.’
‘My feelings for you aren’t a joke.’ His dark brow arches. ‘Been trying to tell you for a while now.’
I roll my eyes, gaze softening as I take in his handsome face, his crooked grin, those smile lines that I see in my dreams. ‘I fucking love you, Mase.’
