I raised my chin and squared my shoulders as the fight rose within me. It was a mechanism I knew so well. It was how I was built and what I did when I didn’t want to face the truth.
“I don’t have feelings for you.” This time, my voice was even firmer. I faked confidence as though I’d been born a liar, my eyes locked on his, not backing down.
A pained expression crossed his face as he stumbled back, like I’d sucker punched him. I watched as hurt seeped out of every wilting part of him, and through the reflection in his eyes, I could see the bitch I truly was, jutting out my chin and stubbornly moving away.
“Don’t do this, Kendy.” The way his voice broke, half commanding me, tore at my insides.
I knew I was hurting him, but this was better for both of us. I clenched my jaw to prevent any emotions from coming to the surface, though a sensation of intense desolation swept over me.
If I didn’t rein this in now, I’d lose. I couldn’t afford to be weak, not in front of him, though inside I was dying.
I swallowed and spoke firmly. “You’re the one who changed the game. This was not how it was supposed to be.”
He reeled back. “Why does everything have to be a game for you?” His voice turned harsh.
“Because it is!” I shouted. My body trembled as I tried to maintain composure. “We agreed. You never told me you wanted anything different.”
“Kendy, things happened. Things changed. For me, at least.” He lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “I thought you felt something.”
“Yeah. Orgasms.” A suffocating sensation tightened around my throat as those words left my mouth. It was mean, but it was all I had left.
He shook his head, shuffling back another step. “No. Something more, something real.” A shudder left his body as he drew in a sharp breath.
I crossed my arms in front of me and stared at him like he was the stupid one, the only one who had felt our connection. Maybe I was a better liar than I thought.
I held my breath, counting seconds for what seemed like an eternity as he stared at me, hoping I’d take back what I just said, but I was stronger than that. I’ve had eight years of practice to toughen up my skin.
The mask was in place as I fixed my eyes on him. But slowly, my insides crumbled as I witnessed his eyes drop to the ground, all hope in them crushed.
“You’re right. You made the rules, and I decided to play the game. I get it.” His voice turned cold, disconnected. “I should’ve known that when you break the rules, you get burned.”
“Bry,” I whispered.
I wanted to say I was sorry. I wanted to tell him this was the last thing I’d meant to happen. I wanted to tell him this was as much for him as it was for me, that he didn’t deserve a messed up, broken woman afraid of her own future. My traitorous feet wanted to move toward him, but I knew I shouldn’t. That would’ve brought me back to square one.
His tone was rough as he said, “If you go out with Stiff, I don’t want to see you. Ever. I walk out that door, and it’s going to be forever. You hear me?”
His voice was cold, lashing, as his eyes met mine, not breaking contact. An inkling of hope passed through his eyes, as if he thought I might change my mind in the next two seconds, but as I straightened my stance, not letting any weakness show, that glimmer diminished, his eyes turning hard.
“Good bye, Kendall.” He nodded once and stepped out the door.
I stared at the empty space and my open door as my tears betrayed me, falling to my cheeks. The tough girl act had left with Brian . . . when he walked out my door and out of my life. The sinking anguish caused me to stumble and slide to the floor. My head fell into my hands as I let the vulnerable girl cry it all out, alone.
Trapped in my own lie, I was defeated.
NINETEEN
BRIAN
I stepped into the condo and dropped my laptop bag to the floor. I was functioning like a walking zombie lately, not speaking, not socializing, just going through the motions, typing at my computer, and answering only when spoken to at work.
In the end, Tiggins Corporation had decided to drop their current bank and move over to Financial State. My manager was ecstatic. When he’d heard of the news, he’d slapped me on the back and sang my praises. I was now a shoo-in for that promotion, and everyone was raving about this great win for the bank. Funny how that worked. Weeks ago, this had been all I’d wanted, to land the account and be the big shot. Now there was not an ounce of me that was excited because work wasn’t as important to me anymore.
I’d fallen in love, but the girl didn’t want me. Instead, she wanted a boring, emotionless prick, who happened to be a rich doctor and the predicted love of her fucking life. Anger choked me, and the more I thought of it, the more I wanted to put my fist through the damn wall.
Whatever.
I did wish her happiness, even if I hated the asshole. Part of me felt guilty for hating him, since I didn’t technically know him, but just the fact that he thought he could have a great girl like Kendy made my face go all red-hot with fury as a seething type of resentment kept eating me up.
I rubbed my brow, feeling a massive headache coming on. Fuck my fucking life. I stalked toward the fridge and reached for my cold beverage of choice then staggered to the couch and turned on the television.
My hands wrapped around the cold beer bottle as I stared at the TV screen, seeing nothing. Good. That’s how I wanted to feel. Maybe mindless TV would help. At least until I was butt ass drunk and passed the hell out.
***
My ass hurt, and I shifted on the couch. Shit. I tipped my head back and drank my fourth beer. My stomach growled for the tenth time, but I’d decided an hour ago I’d get drunk faster if I didn’t eat. The last time I’d eaten was lunch. Still, I needed to numb this dull pang in the center of my chest. It’d only been a few days, and I was sick and tired of being in pain. Being in love fucking hurt. Someone should put that on a billboard, instead of the cheesy shit they always advertised.
I turned up the volume of the TV, raising it to full blast. The bass echoed what the announcer was saying, shaking the coffee table in front of me.
When the door opened, Trey walked through with his work out bag slung over his shoulder. One look at my sorry ass and he dropped the grey backpack on the floor, strolled to the fridge, and grabbed a beer.
I didn’t even offer a hello as my gaze flipped back to the TV. If he even said her name, I’d mention Katelynn to shut him up. I couldn’t talk about her. Not now. It was too fresh.
The couch cushion indented beside me, and he rested his beer on the coffee table. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Nope.” I reached for my fifth beer and pounded it back. The alcohol should’ve warmed me up, but the cold, dull pain was still very present in the center of my chest.
When I thought of Stiff and Kendy on their date, I couldn’t deal. Picturing his hands on her had my arms tensing and the veins in my forearms bulging. I gripped the beer bottle in a tight vise, having a sudden urge to break the glass just to feel physical pain. That would be less excruciating than this unbearable ache. But then I pictured cleaning it up and thought better of it.
Always the responsible one. Yep, that was me. Maybe that was why Kendy didn’t want me. Nice guys finished last, after all.
Trey snatched the remote beside me and lowered the volume. From my periphery, I could feel him burning a hole in the side of my face. When I paid him no attention, he reclined against the cushions as we both pretended to watch TV.
“I don’t know if I can handle seeing your sister.”
I closed my eyes and let out a jagged sigh. He never mentioned my sister. This was his way of forcing me to open up.
“I made her hot cocoa,” I muttered, trying to change the subject, or maybe I was just rambling now, “ . . . left my stupid mug there.”
He frowned, probably wondering where this was headed and what a damn drink had to do with anything.