Or do I just say, please choose me because I need someone I love to do that. Won’t be my mom. Never my dad. But I’ve felt like it was you since we were ten. Is that a lie? Because it’s been the only truth I’ve ever felt down to my goddamn bones.
My hand reaches inside my pocket, a sudden nicotine craving taking hold, but I come up empty. Damn. Before I can think twice about it, a loud whistle calls my attention just as I turn the corner, bringing me twenty feet from Liam’s house. I see him standing on the top step of his brownstone, calling to the driver across the street. His backpack is slung over one shoulder, but it takes me a minute before my thought registers.
That’s not his backpack. It’s Donovan’s bag. The one she carries everywhere. Why the fuck does he have her bag?
My feet move swiftly, pushing around the busy sidewalk. Why is she at his house? Liam waves at the driver he whistled to, calling him over again, and goes back to his front door and disappears inside. I close the distance until I’m standing at the bottom of the brick staircase, looking up and breathing hard. My heart is beating out of my chest, adrenaline pouring through me. Why is she here? Why is he calling her a car?
Has she been here all night?
If he touched her, I’ll kill him. I’ll ruin everything he’s ever loved. Take away anything he’s ever wanted until he offers her to me to make it all stop. All my thoughts are jumbled, warring for attention, but it’s Caroline’s voice that wins outs.
“She’s choosing Liam. She loves him. She loves your best friend.”
“Real, devoted love. The kind you want from her…the kind you have for her.”
“Liam is patient, where you’re bulldozing. He’s kind, where you’re cruel.”
“Maybe she doesn’t love you.”
No. no, no, no, no. She loves me. I love her. Caroline is wrong. But no matter how many times I say it, I can’t get my feet to move up the staircase, because I’m not really sure. Not truly. The door handle twists and I know they’re coming back out, but I still struggle to move.
Tires hit a pothole, and my head shoots to my right, seeing Liam’s car pulling up. In a moment of clarity, I cut around the side of the staircase to where a basement entrance is shadowed. I need to know what’s happening, and I don’t trust they won’t lie to my face. I have to fucking know if she chose him.
I hear the door open and feet shuffling, and in my haze, I push out to try and see their faces, but I’m halted and forced back into anonymity because I hear my favorite sound—her giggle.
Donovan. She’s happy.
I don’t know what’s about to be said between them, but somehow, I know that I’m never coming back from it. It’s the strongest sensation I’ve ever felt. As if everything I’ve ever held as a truth is about to become a lie. Fuck, don’t take her from me. My head falls back against the brick as I stay still and listen.
“You know you mean everything to me, right, Liam? And what you’re doing for me—”
“I’d do anything for you, Van. I say it all the time, but you have to know I mean it.”
“You really are my knight in shining armor.”
“So you keep saying. But I keep wondering what’s in it for me?”
She giggles again, and I can’t help but imagine how he’s holding her waist, the way I always do, or if he’s touching her hair, twirling it between his fingers.
“I think you got enough of a reward this morning. So greedy.”
“That’s right, I am. But I guess I can’t complain, even if I’m already craving it again.”
Silence. Are they kissing?
“Thanks again for the car.”
Her voice is further away, and before I can stop myself, I step away from the wall so that I can see her goddamn, beautiful lying face. But as soon I do, I wish I hadn’t. Golden locks brush her back against the oversized rowing crew T-shirt she’s wearing. Along with the sweats she has rolled and held by a scrunchie at her hip.
She’s wearing his fucking clothes. I can’t breathe. I can feel every crack and chip in my heart splitting open like the Grand Canyon and leaving me with nothing. Just an empty cavern where she used to live.
“Of course. I’ll take the Ducati. Hurry, go get ready or you’ll be late, Van.”
A loud smack is partnered with a squeal, and I’m sure he just swatted her ass. My fist hits the brick with such force, over and over, that my knuckles start to immediately swell, but I don’t feel any pain. I can’t feel anything in comparison to what she’s just done to me.
“Hey, Van. You forgot something.”
Liam calls out to her, and I push away from the brick to look again. I can’t see him, but her smile is enough to ensure their fate. She walks back toward the stairs, and I lose her, but I can hear Liam.
“Kiss me right here.”
Silence.
“Hey.” Her voice is so quiet I can barely make out what she says until I hear, “Don’t tell Grey, okay. I want to wait for the right time.”
“As always, anything for you.”
Donovan
I DIG INSIDE MY BAG, producing my cell, as Liam’s borrowed limo pulls away and heads back to my building. My fingers fly over the keys to make my call. As soon as the ringing sounds, I hit Speaker and wait for an answer.
“Kennedy residence.”
“Vic. It’s me. Do me a favor?”
I’m still rummaging through my bag for my lip gloss as he answers.
“Yes, miss.”
Got it. I pluck the top off and run my finger over it, reapplying since it’s all gone after eating this morning.
“Would you pull a new uniform for me? I stupidly drenched myself in coffee this morning when I brought those super-delish pastries to Liam’s. Be warned, he’s obsessed—you have a superfan. Words like ‘crave’ were used.”
A rare chuckle from Vic has my smile growing. He graciously offered to help me with my peace offering to Liam this morning, and I love him for it. Seems we’ve come a long way. Although Liam was the more reasonable one of the two guys on Sunday, I wanted to make sure I buttered him up, because the news I was delivering wasn’t exactly going to be welcomed with a smile.
I put myself in a vulnerable position last night, and if I could rewind and go back, I would. But I can’t, and I knew the guys would be mad as hell if they heard whatever kind of nonsense that I’m sure Paul is already spreading. Future sociopaths typically work on their craft in high school, and Paul is the classic, entitled Upper East Side model. I only wish Grey was speaking to me, so I didn’t have to ask Liam to keep his mouth shut. But timing is everything with something like this.
Vic’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Are you heading this way now?”
“Yes, right around the corner.” I smile into the phone.
“It will be laid out on your bed, miss.”
“Thank you.”
Three classes and I haven’t even seen Grey. When he didn’t show for first period, Liam texted him, but no answer. Everything feels off, and I can’t shake the feeling that something bad is coming. Maybe it’s all the shit that happened at the club that’s making me paranoid, but with each hour that passes without Grey, my worry’s growing.
I feel uneasy, like I can’t rest on the inside. I need Grey. Damn.
Me: Please stop ignoring me. We need to talk. You’re being a fucking child.
No bubbles. Grey’s not even reading the messages. My hand shoots up, surprising the teacher, but I hurry out my need to use the ladies’ room just as he nods in my direction. Standing, I pluck my bag from the floor and rush out into the empty hall. My finger hovers over Grey’s number as I stare at the screen. What if this is really what he threatened—to be done with me? Maybe he was telling the truth and I’ve lost him.
But I can’t. I won’t survive that reality. Everything will be fine. I just need to talk to him.
The bell rings, startling me, and my lashes blink, dragging me back into the present as I click the phone, making the screen go dark. Kids fil
ter into the halls, pushing past me, but I’m on autopilot as I walk to the cafeteria. The gold handle on the heavy wooden dining hall door feels cold as I place my hand on it and pull, letting in the symphony of laughter and conversations that fill the room.
My eyes immediately search out our table as I enter, hoping I’ll see the familiar expanse of shoulders that always make me bite my lip. But there’s nothing. Damn you, Grey McCallister. Where are you?
I make my way over to the buffet and grab a tray, looking for something to ease the grumble in my stomach, but it’s not hunger that’s making me feel queasy. A shoulder brushes mine, and I look up into sweet green eyes attached to the beautiful boy looking back.
Liam grins at me, placing a small kiss atop my forehead. “The sushi is ripe. I’d stay away. Unless you feel like taking risks.”
Joker.
“Good to know,” I laugh as we move our trays down the rail. “Hey, where’s Kai?”
“Chasing tail on the front steps. Guys basketball team’s gearing up to travel. You know how Kai likes grey sweatpants.”
Even though the joke is funny—mainly because it’s so true—I’m still stuck in my head.
My head lies against his shoulder, and he pulls me in as he leans to grab us water. “Sparkling or flat?”
“Sparkling. Thank you.”
I try to answer without my funk affecting my face. But Liam always sees me, no matter how convincing I try to be. Probably because he has a spare key to my heart.
“Grey doesn’t deserve your worry. He’s being an ass.”
I don’t deserve yours. But we do what we do.
“Don’t say that. He’s our friend.”
Liam furrows his brow, turning to face me as if he’s about to argue, but his eyes are captured by something over my shoulder. I watch intently as his eyes track something behind me, his face filling with silent contempt.
“What’s going on?” I say, turning to see what he’s looking at, but he clangs his tray down in front of me, grabbing my attention back.
“That asshole doesn’t deserve anything you give him so fucking freely,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head.
“Whoa, Liam. Where is this coming from?” My head swings over my shoulder, but I don’t see anything strange. When I look back, my eyes grow wide as Liam takes my tray from my hands, making me realize he’s already set his down on the rail. What’s happening?
He glances over his shoulder, then turns back quickly. As I stare into his eyes, my breathing starts to pick up. It feels like I’m going to cry, but I don’t even know why. I can guess over who though.
“Let me see,” I snap, trying to move past him again.
Liam looms over me protectively, holding my arm and stopping me from pushing past him, but I try again, struggling to get around him.
“Van,” he whispers, but I shove him hard, moving around him.
“What… Oh fuck…I can’t breathe…”
My breath is caught in my tightening chest as my world feels like it’s crumbling around me.
I should’ve known that Grey wouldn’t stop with only a threat. He’s going to make me hate myself for not choosing him. I’m unprepared and stupid, because seated in my chair is a familiar redhead. The girl who I hate. The one who took my place once before in Grey’s car. The one who’s taken my place again, but this time, she has Grey’s tongue in her mouth.
He’s kissing her. He’s fucking kissing her. But it’s not that—it’s the way he’s doing it, like he can’t get enough. Like he did when he had me against his wall and at his mercy. Like he does in all my dreams.
Liam’s hand weaves through mine, giving it a little tug, letting me know he’s here if I need him.
“He said he’d drag me through hell.”
“That’s not hell, Van. It’s whatever happens after that’s designed to hurt.”
“You underestimate my ability to weather a storm,” I say, looking back at Grey.
Liam’s face dips to mine, the tip of his nose brushing my temple. His bottom teeth graze his top lip, putting that beauty mark on display as he shakes his head.
“Nah, you just live in denial about how much he means to you.”
My head twists to Liam, realizing he’s always known. Of course he has. Spare key to my heart and all means someone else has the master. I look back at the table, watching Grey’s hand weave through her hair at the nape of her neck. That’s the spot he puts his hand on me. My chest heaves as if I’m going to sob, but I clamp my lips shut. Eyes are bouncing between the table and where I stand, waiting for what will happen next. He’s made it a show. A public shaming. This is low, even for Grey.
My eyes drop down, and it’s ridiculous, but I can’t stop staring at the chair. That’s my chair. My place. My Grey. No. Not mine. I made that abundantly clear, and Grey’s here to shove my words down my throat or maybe Laura’s.
My feet are moving—I only know because the table is getting closer and closer. Liam stays beside me, unlatching our hands and slinging an arm over my shoulder as he shifts forward. “Hey. Whatever sick little dick-ass game he’s playing…you don’t show him your heart, Van.”
I feel out of body, but Liam anchors me with those sincere and pleading eyes.
“I’m sorry, Liam.”
He looks at me without an answer, but it’s the only thing I can think to say because I know it fucks with his head to see me hurt over Grey. It has to. God, this is all so messed up. But in the middle of all of this, Liam is still thinking about me.
“No sorrys. Never between us.”
“Sit next to me?”
“Always, Van.”
I’ll never grace Grey with my tears because then he’ll know I care, and right now, I want to hate him, even if I don’t. Liam’s right—Grey doesn’t deserve my worry, but he’ll sure as hell get my anger.
Circling around the table, we head toward the opposite side, but I can’t help but glance back at the new lovebirds trying to tongue fuck each other. Where’s the fucking staff. Oh yeah, in his pocket or on their knees for Grey’s attention. Laura moans, and I squeeze my fist so hard that it feels as if my nails prick blood. Jesus. It’s not just a taste of my own medicine. He’s giving me a whole meal.
“Stop playing with your food. It’s poor manners, Grey.”
Caroline’s voice calls from my new side of the table, and my eyes shoot to her smile. No, smile is the wrong word—it’s not happy, more celebratory. That bitch is enjoying this. What evil part did you play in this, Caroline? Did you have her served to him on a silver platter?
Her long dark hair shimmers as her finger twists around a strand. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited a friend? I mean, since Grey doesn’t seem to mind. You’re fine, too, right?”
My palm presses against the table as I lean in closer to her, biting back viciously, “I don’t know what you’ve done. The depths you’ve sunk. But just know, Caroline, it won’t be only Liam that I take from you.”
Her eyes grow colder, all the smugness snuffed out. I laugh, because what did she expect? That I’d default to the Donovan who’s known for being nice and easygoing? That I’d start crying, heartbroken, and run away like she wants? No, I’m out for blood, and anybody’s will do.
Grey pulls away from Laura and looks at her sloppy, smeared lip gloss, handing her a dirty napkin from the table as I adjust into my seat, disgusted and wishing I could run, but knowing I have to stay to face him. Grey turns and locks eyes with me; they give nothing away. And that says everything.
“Donovan. Liam.” Grey’s foggy gaze shifts between us, but the way he sneers at Liam is surprising. “How’s it going?”
The stench of Jack Daniels wafts over the table, and my mouth drops open. He’s drunk. I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but it feels like so much more than what I thought. Liam drapes his arm behind my chair, staring Grey down as I glance up to his face to see if he realizes the same thing, before looking back.
“Are you drunk, Grey?�
��
His eyes laser focus to where Liam’s fingertips are running up and down my arm as we sit in silence. The contempt pouring out of Grey is suffocating. It’s as if Liam’s reassurance pisses him off. He wants me to hurt. Liam said he hadn’t spoken to Grey since I left in the limo, but then why does Grey seem to hate him as much as he hates me?
He lifts his chin, dragging his eyes up as well. “Yes, I am. Whiskey has a way of doing that…remember?” Fuck you.
“Easy,” Liam says sternly, and Grey sits up in his chair like he’s looking for a fight.
“Enough,” I interject. “You haven’t answered your phone all morning. We were worried. But clearly you just needed mouth to mouth. What the fuck is this?”
My hand motions to Laura, who is staring at Grey, but he’s glaring at me.
“What do you care? We’re nothing.”
My chest feels heavy, but I manage the words out. “We’re friends.”
He shrugs, unapologetic, and smirks. “I was busy.”
Laura runs her hand over Grey’s chest and snuggles in close to him, pressing soft kisses to his neck. It makes my stomach turn, but I don’t look away. I wouldn’t give him that kind of satisfaction.
Instead, I stare directly at his arrogant face. “Too busy to return a text? Stop being a dick. You’re mad, I get it. This is a shitty way to make a point. We don’t do this.”
“We don’t do anything. But you two…that’s a different story,” he grits out between his teeth, fury in his eyes as he looks between me and Liam.
What?
“What the fuck are you talking about, Grey? What’s your problem?” Liam yells loudly, removing his hand from behind my chair, squaring up in his seat.
Filthy Little Pretties Page 25
