Page 60 of Breathe Like Hell

Something other than this cycle of me always wanting him and him pushing me away every time he remembered what I’d done. If Micah could see the anguish on my face, he didn’t let on. I pushed away from him, embarrassed and frustrated and tired of this.

I didn’t say goodbye before walking out the door, letting it swing shut.

There was no noise behind me, no protest, no hand grabbing my arm to make me stay. Just me alone with my thoughts walking down an artificially lit hallway while my life slowly crumbled around me. I wished he’d fought for me, but I’d known he wasn’t going to. Not now.

Mason picked me up from campus, and I didn’t talk to Micah for the rest of the night. He didn’t text me, nor did I text him. I just curled up on Mason’s couch with a bad feeling in my stomach and sadness in my veins, a horror movie I’d already seen before flickering light across my face.

Mason tucked me against his side, his arm heavy and comforting over my shoulders, his scent surrounding me. Rolling waves and endless darkness.

“Do you want me to order pizza or something?” he asked.

“I don’t care.” My voice was little more than a whisper against the soundtrack of violent, terrifying escalation coming from his TV speakers. He turned the volume down, then I grabbed the remote out of his hand and turned it right back up.

“Alright.” Mason got his phone out and the screen was tilted enough in my direction that I could see him placing an order for a large pizza; half cheese, half whatever he wanted. Some meat.

I still wanted to know what he’d deleted off his phone, but it didn’t matter anymore. He probably deleted shit off his phone every day, and that was why everything was so bare bones. Zero personality.

“Do you have social media?” I questioned.

“No,” he answered without pause as he input his card information.

“Is that the truth?”

“Yeah.” Mason glanced down at me. “Did you actually think I would have a social media account?”

“Not really. And I’ve tried looking you up before. I didn’t find anything then.”

He tightened his hold around my shoulders, squeezing me against him under the fuzzy blanket bundled around me. “You stalking me, baby?”

I rolled my eyes. “No. Does Micah have social media?”

“First of all, how would I know? Second of all, don’t talk to me about him.” He clicked his phone off and shoved it between the couch cushions. “Pizza will be here in like half an hour.”

“You’re so defensive whenever I bring him up.”

“Oh, I wonder why. Couldn’t be that you’re cheating on me with him, could it?”

“He’s too mad at me for that now,” I grumbled.

“You have an attitude about the fact that you’re trying to cheat, and he’s not letting you?”

“Can you stop fucking saying that?” I snapped. “You knew about him from the day you hurt me in your car, and unless my memory has been wiped, we never discussed being exclusive. Not like you’re really trying to stop me, either.”

“Okay, fine. We’re exclusive now.” He dragged me onto his lap, so I was straddling his hips, his hand coming to my throat. My pulse fluttered under his fingers.

“No.” I shook my head.

“Yes, baby. Yes.” Mason pulled me closer, his gaze flicking between my eyes and my mouth. I couldn’t help leaning into him a little bit, the blanket falling off my shoulders.

“Show him that, then,” I said, looping my arms behind his neck.

Mason’s hold tightened on my throat, his free hand sliding down to palm my ass.

I might’ve felt bad about the toxic shit I was doing now, but Mason wasn’t stupid. He knew what I wanted—to make Micah jealous.

I needed to make Micah snap, push him past the point of rationality, so he’d just come and take me back. I’d deduced that being gentle with him wouldn’t work, because he got defensive and more angry at me. But it was a different type of anger, harder for me to fight against.

And Mason wanted him jealous, too. For different reasons, sure, but the desire was the same.