Emily frowns, uncrosses her legs, and leans forward. I don’t even know whose car she’s sitting on—her date’s, maybe.
“She’s choosing some adolescent over me. ME!” I shout.
She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Who the hell are you talking about?”
“Owen,” I growl.
“What? Okay. Back the fuck up. I can’t follow your train of thought. I’m not in your head. Remember? Start from the beginning.”
“I caught Owen in the exam room with Jessica.”
She snorts. “I guess that’s a start.” She sighs. “What were they doing in the exam room?” She asks the question as if she’s talking to a toddler.
I level her with another look, as if that will do me any good. Emily is not the least bit intimidated by me compared to everyone else, except Jessica. That was pretty evident by the way she stood her ground and stared into my eyes. “She just stood there, half-naked.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Where was Owen?”
“By the door. I actually hit him with it.”
She laughs—fucking laughs—and then covers her face. “For fuck's sake, Tyler. You graduated from Harvard Law, top of your class, and you can’t even give me a detailed description of what happened that’s got your panties in a twist!”
“Don’t mock me. I’m not in the mood,” I snap.
She crosses her arms. “Did you think maybe it was an accident? He may have accidentally walked into the room when she was undressing or something.”
“That wasn’t an accident. He follows her around like a lovesick puppy.”
“Okay. Fine. So maybe he intentionally walked into the room and took her by surprise. She turned around. I don’t know, Tyler. I wasn’t there. But I know one thing—Owen is her friend. He is one of the few friends that she has in the program, no thanks to you.”
“What do you mean by that?” This was a mistake, coming here. I should never have come here to talk to her. But I didn’t know who else to talk to. I know that I really fucked up when Igrabbed her. Jealousy consumed me. I don’t care if she refuses to be with me. She’s still mine, and I will fight anyone who thinks they can take her away from me.
“You, you asshole! You pick on her all the time and single her out during training. All the other assholes in the program took your lead. They pick on her because she’s the smallest in the group. She’s not weak, but you make her look like she is. She takes it because she knows you’re mad at her. She knows she hurt you.”
Have I been picking on her? I thought I pushed her to make her better. Hell, she’s one of the best fighters to come through the program. I’ve been picking on her because I know she’s holding back. She started off at the top and has been slowly falling down the scoreboard. Have I been too hard on her?
“You really are a hormonal teenager on steroids. Aren’t you? You don’t see it. You don’t even realize what you’re doing.”
I don’t answer her. Guilt stabs me in the chest. I was aware that the group teased her and gave her a hard time. I let it slide a little because I didn’t want anyone to get close to her. I kept telling myself it was to keep her identity a secret, but the truth—if I am being honest with myself—is that I wanted her to come to me for help. I just wanted her attention again. I wanted her to need me, to want me, and I wanted any excuse to convince her to be with me. Shit, I really am an immature asshole. I want to blame all of these fucking emotions that I never needed or felt before, but those excuses only last so long. I’m a grown-ass man, trying to get a seventeen-year-old to fucking pay attention to me because she broke my heart.
Like a sulking child, I sit next to Emily on the hood of the car. She elbows my arm halfheartedly.
“I really don’t think there is anything going on between Owen and Jessica. He is just a friend, and no one knows who she really is, except for the twins and Elijah. Hell, she still grumbles aboutthe fact that Jeremy called her Little G when she showed up to orientation.”
I huff. I saw the look on her face. She hated it. Worse, because I knew she hated it, I started to call her G. Now everyone does.
“I fucked up, Em. I don’t think I can get her back now.”
She glances at me sideways. “What did you do?”
“She met Shadow.”
“Uh, full-blown Shadow or just black-eyes Shadow?”
I let out a breathy laugh at her description of my not-so-better half. “Black-eyes Shadow.”
She shrugs. “Could have been worse.”
I place my hands in my pocket of my hoodie.
