He drives into me one last time, holding himself deep inside of me as he comes. “Fuck,” he whispers as he empties himself inside.
When he’s fully drained, his body sinks down onto mine. His head falls onto my breasts as he comes back down to earth from a temporary visit to heaven. I run my finger through his short hair, and pray to myself that this night never ends.
Silence takes hold, and all that’s left is labored breathing and beating hearts—a perfect symphony of love gone haywire. Like the irregular rhythm of our hearts, love isn’t something that ever makes sense.
Tonight, I’ll hold him tight while we sleep, because tomorrow I have to tell him the truth. How can a word spelled with only five letters carry so much weight and heartache? The funny thing about truth is that you can’t live without it, but I can’t love with it. Not when it’s this explosive. Not when the truth is the pin of a grenade.
When my eyes flicker open, I’m at peace. The early morning sun streams in through the bedroom window, washing a thin coat of heat over my body. I’m not tired, but rather fully refreshed and ready for the day ahead—no matter the obstacles.
I’ve found something in Jensen, and I’m going to do everything within my power to keep it from falling apart. I’m eager to see his face when I roll over onto my side, but he’s not there.
I sit up in bed, and pull the covers tight around me. I listen for signs of him, but hear nothing. There’s an eerie silence abound and the only thing that passes through my ears is that of a car cruising down wet pavement.
“Jensen,” I call out, and raise my hand to push the hair from my face, but something steals my attention. My hand swipes against a folded sheet of paper beside me where Jensen had fallen asleep.
My heart would drop out of my chest if I didn’t know better, the same way it did back at the beach when I didn’t know better. A smile ripples across my face as I unfold the note, wondering what sweet, ridiculous words are waiting for me.
Apple,
Good morning, beautiful. Last night was the best night of my life. Thank you for your patience and understanding with me, but there’s one last secret for me to share…
I don’t love you. I thought I did, but I have realized you are nothing but a bitter, vindictive woman. You’re toxic and I can’t have you in my life. This is on you. You know what you did, and I don’t think I can ever forgive you.
Somebody you used to know,
Jensen
P.S. Get some professional help
26
“You stupid son of a bitch,” I scream through my cell phone as I race across the quad.
“What is this concerning?” Brick asks innocently enough, but he’s full of shit. He knows exactly what I’m talking about. I may have the worst luck when it comes to men on this side of Jennifer Aniston, but the similarities between what Mason and Jensen both did are too striking to not make the connection. Jensen wouldn’t have made this move on his own; there has to be a puppeteer pulling his strings.
“You know what the fuck I’m talking about.”
“I assure you, I do not.”
“You didn’t tell him about our bet?”
“What the fuck?” His voice rings with frustration. “Really, Apple? Do you think I would do that to you?”
“You’ve done a lot of fucked up shit.” I look both ways before crossing the road that separates Clinton Hall and Davidson Hall.
“Give me a damn break. Everything I have ever done has been to protect you.” He’s not exactly lying there. In his own fucked up way, he’s the only one who has ever shown an interest in protecting my heart. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I bark. “I’ll talk to you later.” I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt, if for no other reason than I have to trust somebody.
I try to make another connection in my head, trying to figure out Jensen’s motive. Either he knows about the bet, which would have to be Brick’s doing, or he’s somehow connected to Mason. Either way, the explosion I had predicted was coming is about to drop like a bomb over civilian territory.
And I don’t give a fuck who’s caught in the crosshairs. My entire being burns with rage—the taste of hypocrisy is lodged firmly in my throat, but I don’t care. If there were ever any question about why I am the way I am, this right here would be the perfect example. Opening my heart leads to nothing but heartbreak.
I rip open the campus door and storm down the hall. Along the way, I pass open classrooms with students inside each. Once I arrive at Jensen’s lecture hall, I take a short break to collect myself.
I roll my palm into a fist and raise it to my mouth, trying to control the rage within. For the briefest of moments, I think about my approach in terms of logic. I could rush in there and confront him without a care in the world that his students will hear everything. Or, I could wait patiently for class to be over and confront him one-on-one.
Anger doesn’t wait.
I whip the door open and his eyes frame me before I’m halfway to his desk, and I’m practically sprinting.
“You’re an asshole,” I scream, much to the amusement of bored coeds and slam the note he left me against his chest. “You are not who I thought you were.”
“This is my work,” he hisses at me in a whisper. “You can’t come in here acting like a spoiled little brat.”
“Spoiled?”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He hooks his hand around my arm and drags me out of the room, and into the hall. “This isn’t some neutral territory for you to wage your personal wars.”
“You are so noble.” The sarcasm in my voice is striking. “You’ve painted yourself in this visage of a perfect façade, but your true colors have come shining through.”
“My true colors?” He reaches back and pulls the door shut. “No. I don’t think so. You are not going to pin this on me.”
“Just tell me why.”
“Why?” He raises his brow and points his finger to his skull. “Think about it, Apple.”
He has to know. Brick has to be full of shit. It’s the only scenario that makes sense. “I don’t know—“
“Do you have the capacity to care about people?” He shakes his head. “I don’t think you do. I was just a game to you. A sick, perverted game.”
“Who told you that?” I know the answer, but I need confirmation.
“It tells me everything I need to know when that’s your concern.” Shoes clatter against the floor as a nearby door swings open and students begin to pour out. Jensen tugs at my arm and pulls me further down the hallway to a little nook filled with vending machines. “Funny story, it was your boyfriend.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Brick Valmont? Does it ring a bell?”
“He is not my boyfriend,” I snap and fold my hand over my mouth. If I have my way about it, he’ll be dead by sunset.
“He called me in the middle of the night and told me everything.” He slams his fist past me, crunching against a vending machine. “I’m not an idiot, Apple, but you sure the fuck made me feel like one.”
“I’m sorry.” The words tremble off my lips. I’m familiar with heartbreak, but it never ceases to hurt.
“You’re sorry?” He jerks away from me, throwing his hand to the side. “Get the fuck out of here with that lame ass shit.” He places a pointed finger against his chest. “I told you about my past. Do you have any idea how hard that was? Do you care? You’re just like the rest of them. You’re a heartless bitch who couldn’t give two fucking fucks about the people around her.”
He’s more than angry. He’s more than hurt. He’s feeling betrayed by the first woman he has opened up to since he lost his family all those years ago. The hurt and betrayal I felt when I woke up this morning is a grain of sand in comparison. This all falls on me. Our heartbreak duet began with my cruel intentions.