“Tag…” The tears fall harder, evidence of my shame. Then, like a glass heart underfoot, I break. “I…I don’t know what to do.”
His face falls as I crumble. Tag lifts off the counter and pulls me into a hug, his chin dropping to the top of my head as I sag against him, my fists balled at his chest.
He doesn’t answer.
Just lets me cry.
Chase has awakened something in me, a part that has grown cold over the years, a slow-dying flame. Soon I’ll be torn in half, pieces of me forever entangled with the little boy I fell in love with before I even knew what love was.
And these new pieces, dusted off and polished, brought back to life.
By him.
I just don’t know which piece fits best.
Chapter 29Alex
She crawls into bed beside me. The mattress shifts with the added weight, the covers moving with her as I face the opposite wall.
She thinks I’m asleep.
But I’m wide awake, simmering in anger and violence and loneliness. The loneliness hurts most. The anger gives it control. “You didn’t answer my calls.”
A beat of silence.
I hear her breathing, and those wispy little breaths sound like shame.
They speak to the violence.
Rolling over, I watch her chest rise and fall through the dancing shadows. A shred of moonlight seeps through the pinstripe curtains, highlighting wet splotches on her cheekbones.
My hands curl.
Shame it is.
“Anything you want to tell me?” My voice is low and dark, teetering the brink of mass destruction. “Clearly, you’ve been crying.”
She swipes at her face. “It was a tough practice.”
That mocking voice throws its head back with a laugh.
I catapult over to her side of the bed like a rabid dog breaking from its leash until I’m spitting right in her face. “Bull. Fucking. Shit.”
“Jesus!” The mattress squeaks as she jerks into a sitting position and scrambles against the headboard, our noses a lethal inch apart. “Alex, you’re scaring me.”
“Why are you wet?” I flick a strand of damp hair. “A late-night swim?”
“Yes. It was stifling in the garage.”
“Naturally.”
Her expression pinches with barely contained emotion. “Why are you acting like this?”
“Why did you ignore my calls all night?” I shoot back with venom. “You know I fuckinghatethis music shit. These practices. You spend more time with other men than me. I have a right to know where you are, what you’re doing.” I stab a finger to my chest. “You’remygoddamn girlfriend.”
She flinches at my words, though I haven’t shouted.
It’s the quiet rage that gets her. Always has.
