“No,” he pants.
I straighten up. “Can you guys start moving my stuff while I get his pain pills.”
Slater and Myndi gravitate to the boxes littering the hallway, while Ryan crosses his arms, fixing me with a stern look. “He’s not your responsibility, Gabby. Let his new girlfriend look after him.”
His words cut a new line through my fragile heart.
“Don’t have a new girlfriend,” Dylan pants out.
“Fuck buddy, whore, relationship wrecker,” Ryan adds. “Don’t give a shit what label you give that skank.”
“It’s not like that.”
Slater stomps over with a box in his arms, glowering at Dylan even though he can’t see him because he still has his head in his hands. “Yeah, dude? So how the hell did her clothes get in your closet, and who shoved all Belle’s stuff haphazardly into these boxes, breaking shit in the process?”
Slowly, Dylan lifts his head, squinting and cowering from the overhead lights. “I didn’t tell her she could do that.” He turns his bloodshot eyes on me. “I swear I didn’t ask her to move in. She’s not moving in.” He clutches the back of the couch, struggling to his feet. “This is all a big misunderstanding, Gabby. Ask them to go and I’ll explain.”
I shake my head, concern transforming to anger. “I can’t believe the nerve of you to stand in front of me and claim this is a big misunderstanding. I saw you!” I scream, and he winces. “I saw you all over her. Tell me, was she the first or just the first of many?”
“Belle.” Slater softly cautions me, and he’s right.
It doesn’t matter anymore.
What’s done is done.
I grab fistfuls of my hair. “Ugh! I’m not doing this. We are over, Dylan. I’m moving out, and I never want to speak to you again.” I turn my eyes on Ryan and Slater. “Please just move my stuff to the car.”
I stalk to the kitchen, grab a glass of water and his pills, and return to Dylan. “Take these and go lie down. And you really need to go back to the doctor.”
Anxiety is a heavy weight on my chest as I make my way to the bedroom to check the bitch boxed up all my stuff. One look at the crumpled sheets has my resolve wavering, but I fight tears and focus on the task at hand, pulling out drawers and tipping the last few personal items into the box I brought with me. I check the bathroom, grabbing my toiletries and adding them to the rest of my stuff. Against my better judgment, I wet a cloth and step back into the bedroom.
Dylan is lying facedown on the bed, still clutching his head in his hands. He has drawn the drapes, and the room is in darkness. “Here’s a cold cloth.” I place it on his bedside table.
His hand snakes out, encircling my wrist. “I’m so sorry, Gabby. More than you could possibly know. I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Don’t, Dylan. Don’t make it worse. You have devastated me and ruined us. There’s no going back, so just let it go. Let me go.” Tears roll silently down my face as I walk to the door, vowing this is the last time I cry over that man. I turn around to look over him one final time. “I really loved you, Dylan. You had my whole heart. I hope she was worth it.”
Drying my eyes, I lift my shoulders and walk out of the room, and his life, with my head held high.
Chapter Eighteen
The mood in the car is subdued, so I plug my cell into the stereo system and press shuffle on the music app. Music fills the awkward silence, and I hum along as some of my favorite songs play. My mouth turns dry when “Love Story” by Taylor Swift comes on, and my lower lip wobbles as so many memories associated with that song spring forth in my mind. I sense Slater glancing at me, but I avoid making eye contact because I can’t guarantee I won’t burst into tears.
I was ten going on eleven when that song was released, but I instantly fell in love with the all-consuming romance of the lyrics and the melody. The dark-haired hottie in the video didn’t hurt either, and it’s the first time I remember having a serious crush on any guy. I’d met Dylan a few months previously, and we became instant besties. He loved teasing me all the time about my obsession. Especially when Caleb taught me how to play it on my guitar, and I drove my family insane strumming it nonstop.
My lips tug up at the corners when Ryan starts belting out the words, ending the tense atmosphere. Then Slater joins in, and I can’t help singing along, smiling as we all start singing louder to be heard. Soon it becomes a competition, and we’re all practically shouting while Myndi’s gaze bounces between us like we’ve all gone batshit crazy.
All good humor fades as Taylor sings the last line, and a sob escapes my lips before I can stop it. Slater reaches across the console, squeezing my hand, helping to keep the tears at bay. I smile at him through blurry eyes, grateful for his understanding and his lack of judgment.
“Is someone going to explain what just happened,” Myndi asks, “because it feels like I just wandered into auditions for a spoof version of Pitch Perfect.”
I’m sniffling as I twist around to face my bestie. “That’s one of my all-time favorite love songs, and it was released just after I met Dylan. I learned how to play it on the guitar—”
“Don’t remind me,” Ryan cuts in. “We had to tie her up and tape her mouth to put an end to the torture. Remember, Evans?”
Slater smiles at me. “I thought it was super cute.”
Ryan makes a gagging sound, and we all laugh.
“You remember that time I begged you to let me and Dylan come camping with you?” I ask my brother, as I’m confronted with more memories attached to that song.
“You mean that time you blackmailed me into convincing Mom and Dad to let you come with us?”
I snort. “I didn’t blackmail you. I just used my considerable powers of persuasion.”
Ryan scoffs, turning to face Myndi. “She found out I’d smoked some weed, and she told me, point blank, that if I didn’t persuade the rents to let her come she’d tell them I was smoking dope and doing tons of other shit they wouldn’t approve of.”
“I even went and got photographic proof when he refused at first,” I snicker.
“You were always very resourceful, Belle.” Slater grins.
“I grew up surrounded by boys. Some of their shit was bound to rub off on me,” I explain with a shrug.
“What happened with the camping?” Myndi urges me to continue.
“The instant the tents were set up, these two”—I point at Slater and Ryan—“started fucking around with the girls they brought, so Dylan and I took off on a hike before I became traumatized for life.” I send a glare at the boys.
“Don’t ask to hang with the big boys if you can’t handle it,” Ryan shoots back.
“I was fifteen, and I should not have had to hear that.” I shiver all over as the screams and shouts coming from Mabel White’s mouth replay in full volume in my head. “The mistake I made was not doing the same when you were in earshot. Would’ve loved to see how you handled it then, Ryan.”
He purses his lips, wagging his finger at me.
“Anyway, Dylan and I found a private spot to make out …” I blush at the memory of giving each other oral sex for the first time in the small cave we found tucked into the side of the mountain.
“Ahem.” My brother clears his throat. “Move it along before I ask Slate to turn the car around and go back and beat Dylan to a pulp.”
“We kinda lost track of time, and it was dark when we started making our way back,” I tell Myndi. “Neither of us had realized how far we’d walked. I could hardly see, and I tripped over a rock and sprained my ankle.” Emotion clogs my throat. “Dylan had to carry me for miles back to camp. He was well over six feet by then, but he was skinny as fuck, and I know it must have killed him, but he never complained. Not once.”
My voice cracks a little, and I pause for a second to gather myself. “To distract me from the pain,
he sang this song the whole way up the mountain.” Tears roll down my cheeks, and Ryan squeezes my shoulder.
“Ryan was drunk,” Slater continues the story, instinctively knowing I can’t go on, “and I was the only sober one with a driver’s license, so I drove Belle to the hospital. Dylan passed out on the backseat, totally exhausted.”
He looks adoringly at me. “You were so brave. I knew you were in pain, but you wouldn’t cry. I let you play that damn song on a loop the whole hour it took to get to the nearest hospital.” He chuckles.
“And you held my hand while the doctor bandaged me up.” I smile weakly at him, wondering why, in all the times I thought about that night, I never remembered how concerned he was and how well he looked after me. He never left my side, carrying me back to the car and giving me his camp bed because it was more comfortable than the one I brought. “Did I even thank you?”
He shrugs. “You didn’t need to, Belle. It’s not like it was a chore.”
Our eyes lock, and something passes between us. It’s a fleeting acknowledgment of something I’ve felt before. Something brewing these last few weeks. Or maybe it’s been longer, and I’ve just never noticed. Without pausing to think about it, I lean over the console and place a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” I whisper, almost keeling over in shock when a blush creeps up his neck. For the first time, I wonder if I’m not the only one experiencing strange reactions.
Ryan clears his throat again, and we snap out of it. That’s the end of the reminiscing though, and we’re all quiet the rest of the trip.
Ryan remains in my room when the last of the boxes are deposited. “Have you thought about what you want to do?”
I shrug, flopping down on the bed. “I guess I need to start looking for a place to live.”
“I took a call from Michael last night. His dad isn’t good, and he isn’t coming back for a while. He wants to stay there and help his mom look after him. He’s deferred this semester, and he asked me to rent out his room, so you can stay here if you like.”
“Won’t that cramp your style?”
He ruffles my hair. “Nah. I’m at Myndi’s half the time, and you’ve seen how little the guys are here.”
“Won’t they mind a girl moving in?”
“I honestly don’t think either Powers or Evans will care. I’m pretty sure they love having you here. The house is spotless, and your cooking expertise is definitely appreciated. But, if it makes you feel better, I’ll run it by both of them tonight.”
“And you’re sure you’re okay with this? Most brothers wouldn’t want their little sister moving in.”
Leaning over, he presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m not most brothers, and I want you here. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t offer.”
I push up to my knees and hug my brother. “Thank you. I love you.”
He squeezes me tight. “I love you too, and I’d do anything for you. You never have to doubt that.”
“I know.” I’m so lucky I have three brothers—four if you count Slater—who would literally kill for me if I asked.
Ryan sits on the edge of my bed, and I pull my knees into my chest. “Okay, cool. Ask them, and if they agree, at least it gives me some breathing space to find my own place for next semester.”
“That’s if Michael even comes back. I have a feeling he’ll be gone longer than one semester.”
“That sucks about his dad. Tell him I’m thinking of him.”
“It’s a shitty situation.”
“I dread the day when we have to face something similar.” A shiver works its way through me.
“It’s something I avoid thinking about, and at least our parents are still young and healthy.”
“Can’t help thinking about it though.”
He sighs. “I know, and I feel for Michael. He’s super close to his dad. This will hit him hard.”
“I don’t doubt it, and I know what he’s going through,” Slater says, popping his head through the open doorway. “Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”
“I know, dude.” Ryan’s expression is sympathetic as he stands. “But he’s strong like you. He’ll get through it.” Ryan claps him on the back as he walks out.
“You got a sec, Belle?”
“For you? Always.”
That brings a contented smile to his face. Tellingly, he closes the door and props his butt against the edge of the desk. “I need to get something off my chest.”
Butterflies nestle in my tummy, and I’m suddenly on edge. “Okay.”
“You seem to be under a misconception about me, and I don’t like it.”
My eyes pop wide as I’m taken aback. “If I’ve offended you in some way, I’m sorry.”
He crosses his ankles. “It bothers me that you think I’m some raving manwhore when I’m not. I’ll admit I was a little crazy for a while senior year of high school and I probably overdid it freshman year of college, but tales of my conquests have been greatly exaggerated around campus. I’ve been with a lot less girls than you think.”
“Sorry if I’ve been judgmental. I honestly didn’t mean to be, but you and Ryan always seemed to have different girls with you, and it’s not like either of you have ever really had a proper relationship.”
“I want that, Belle, but there’s only one girl I’ve ever desired that with, and she wasn’t available.”
My heart skips a beat. “What girl?”
“The only girl who’s ever mattered. The one I’ve tried so hard to forget, but she’s ruined me for all others.”
“Do I know her?” I whisper, wondering why I’m internally debating whether it could be me. I shove that ludicrous assumption aside.
As if.
He peers deep into my eyes, and the moment turns intense again. His gorgeous eyes smolder with emotions I can’t decipher. My heart is pounding behind my rib cage, and my gaze moves to his lips without any conscious thought. I wonder what it would be like to kiss him? To have those large hands explore my body? I’m betting Slater goes all out to please the woman he’s with, and, suddenly, I’m hugely curious to experience that.
I jump up off the bed, heart thumping wildly. An ache throbs down below, and I’m confused as fuck. I shouldn’t be thinking of Slater like that. Of any guy like that. I’ve just come out of a relationship and my heart is broken.
But if that’s the case, why is it presently soaring at the thought of something happening between Slater and me?
Chapter Nineteen
I shove Slater out of my room after that on the pretense I needed to unpack, but really it was to conduct an internal examination. To question whether I’ve finally lost the plot. I reach the conclusion it’s the stress of the breakup making me think crazy thoughts.
Because there’s no way Slater feels like that about me. I’d know if he did. Apart from that blush earlier, he’s never given me any indication proving otherwise.
The school week is long and arduous, not helped by the fact Dylan refuses to give up. He calls and texts all the time, and a bunch of lilies arrives daily with pleading notes for forgiveness.
I’m sitting in the living room with my cell on the couch beside me and a large glass of white wine pressed to my lips, wondering if I can go through with this.
“Whatcha doing?” Myndi asks, wandering into the living room a couple minutes later.
“Be there in a sec, babe,” Ryan hollers down the stairs as Myndi sinks onto the couch beside me.
“Dylan won’t stop texting and calling, and he’s freaking out over the fact I returned all his money.”
“I didn’t know you did that.”
I take a big gulp of wine. “Yep. It’s official. I’m single, heartsick, and completely broke.”
“How do you feel about the money?” she asks, not needing to inquire into my state of mind over my newly single status.
&n
bsp; “Fan-fucking-tastic, actually. Freeing. I should never have accepted his money to start off with.”
“He was your forever guy. Of course, you should have.”
“Well, I’m not letting myself rely so much on a guy ever again.”
“Good for you, babe, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re sitting here looking all tortured and drowning in a bottle.”
“I’m debating whether to block his number,” I admit, taking another healthy mouthful of wine.
“Oh. I see.”
“It makes it final, and there’s a part of me resisting, but I don’t see that I have much choice. I can’t move on if he won’t let up with the messages. I need it to stop.”
“Just do it, sis,” Ryan says, stepping into the room. He leans down and kisses Myndi on the mouth. “Hey, baby. You look absolutely beautiful.” Myndi swoons, and it’s obvious to everyone that these two are falling deep.
I smile at my brother. I’ve never seen this side of him before although I always knew he had it in him.
Dylan used to look at me like that until he decided I wasn’t enough for him. Until he chose to cheat on me rather than being truthful and breaking things off before he started sticking his dick in random pussy.
Any nostalgia I was feeling withers and dies. Hurt lances me on all sides, and a big lump forms at the back of my throat while tears sting my eyes.
And that decides it for me. Picking up my cell, I draw a deep breath and block Dylan’s number, hating how my hand shakes and my heart cries with the action.
At work Friday night, Shelby makes no attempt to disguise the venomous looks she slants my way. I’m trying to ignore her, but I feel her eyes following me around the room, and it’s not so easy to shake her off.
“Ignore her,” Emma says, coming up behind me as I’m leaving a table with their order. “She’s a jealous, spiteful bitch, and no one likes her. Except for the boss, but that’s only because she’s spreading her legs for him. Tramp.”
“I don’t get what I did to piss her off. It’s like she hated me before she even met me.”
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