Page 103 of Wrecked

I slap him in the face.

His eyes grow wild with exhilaration. “Hit me again.”

I let out an exasperated breath. “What?”

He steps back. With two fingers, he pushes me in the shoulder.

I grab my shoulder in the spot where he pushed me. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Why do you hate me?” he asks.

Running a hand through my hair, I look back at him like he’s insane. Because, right now, I think he is losing his mind.

“Because you lied to me.”

He pushes me again—this time, in the other shoulder. “Before that.”

Out of reflex, I punch him in the chest. He doesn’t flinch.

“Because you held me hostage when you knew I was innocent.”

With a finger, he flicks the skin of my bicep. It hurts more than being pushed. “Before that.”

With two hands, I shove him away, hard. “Because you run around this town like you’re above everyone. Above me.”

He flicks my other arm. “Before that.”

Rage builds. I shove him, almost violently. “Because you look at me like I’m trash.”

He doesn’t even touch me because my fist is on his chest again.

“Because you called me a whore.” My left hand rises. My knuckles collide against his chest, bouncing off the muscles. “Because you were my friend.” I start to beat him, banging my fists against his pecs. My words can’t keep up with my hands. “Because you were more than a friend to me.”

Hot tears spill down my cheeks. My emotions rush out of my body, but I keep hitting him. Keep hurting him. Trying to hurt him as much as he hurt me.

“Because, when Brad died, I went to look for the one person I needed, and you pushed me away. You pushed me away, and I loved you, goddamn it. I loved you so much, and you pushed me away. You called me a whore, and you never gave me the chance to tell you how I felt because you’re a cold, heartless prick.”

I collapse onto his chest. The tears burst out of the seams, like a levee breaking. My breath is unable to catch up with how hard I’m crying.

Adam’s arm comes up and holds me tight against him.

I sob into his shirt. “You’re not the only one who lost Brad. I lost him, too. He meant so much to me, and I had all this shame after he died. I didn’t know what to do with it.”

His hand rises and caresses my hair, petting my head and holding me firm.

I breathe into his chest. “I needed you. I needed you to tell me I wasn’t wrong for how I felt. You weren’t there, and I hate you for that.”

The words feel like a million-ton brick being lifted off my chest. The hate and animosity of a seven-year vendetta have finally been shattered into the air at a nightclub parking lot.

Adam places his chin on my head and cocoons me. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I look up at him. My brows curve in as my wet cheeks feel cool in the night breeze.

He places his thumbs on my face and wipes away the tears. “I never hated you.”

I must be giving him a look that says, I don’t believe you, because his eyes crinkle a smidgen but grow serious again.

“I hated myself. I wanted you so much. You’re all I thought about. At first, I just thought it was because you were my friend’s girl. That maybe there were other girls like you. Then, I thought it was because we were spending so much time together. I would lie awake at night and think about how you had these two birthmarks, right here, on your neck. They look like vampire bites. When I saw you, I’d want to bite it so bad that I’d have to walk away. When I was in class, I’d recall all the bad jokes you told me. I’d start laughing, and my teachers would stop class to see whom I was talking to. At night, I would find myself watching Matthew McConaughey movies. I can’t stand that guy, yet I couldn’t help but watch and wonder what he had that I didn’t. I never hated you.”