SweetHarts (5 Book Box Set)

by Kira Graham

  “They can shove it up their asses. Those drugs make my mind spotty, and I don’t like it.”

  “Well, I don’t like seeing you suffer all day, and then toss and turn at night because you’re in too much pain to sleep. Use the fucking meds, Sinai!” I roar at her, my temper finally snapping.

  We’ve fallen back into an unsteady truce of sorts, during which I stay with her twenty-four seven, leaving her long enough only to occasionally go home, shower, and change my clothes, while Heath hangs out in my place, his gun unholstered and at the ready.

  It hasn’t been too bad, really, unless you think about the fact that she constantly cusses me out, has tried multiple times to have security toss me out of the room, and even once threw a plate of food at me when I suggested that maybe her critique of hospital fare was a little too harsh. I agree that they don’t know what salt or flavor is, but Sin’s screaming that at the nurse isn’t going to change anything, and we both know it.

  “I don’t want to. I don’t want to sleep my days away in a fog!”

  “No! That’s not true, is it? You just don’t want to sleep because you’re terrified that you’re going to have to face things that you’ve been running from for months,” I yell back, hissing and ducking when she grabs a bedpan and hurls it at me, just missing my head.

  “What the hell do I have to be afraid of? I’m not afraid of anything, you moron.”

  I should shut my mouth like I usually do and let this go. I know it, and I even agree that losing my temper with her isn’t fair—or wise. But I’ve been stuck here with her for days, watching her slowly but surely drive herself crazy, and I suddenly can’t stand even one more minute of it.

  “You’re afraid to think about the baby you lost!” I yell, regretting it immediately when Sin stiffens and whips her eyes around to look at me, with shock, fear, and panic clearly taking a hold of her.

  “What are you…I didn’t…”

  “Don’t lie to me, Sinai. You started telling me about it after everyone cleared out of here that first day,” I say gently, hating the pain that flits across her face before she narrows her eyes and bares her teeth.

  “You waited until I was drugged up, and then snooped around for dirt on me?”

  “No! You just started talking, and then when I realized what you were saying, I felt like I needed to know. We’re supposed to be friends—”

  “We are not friends, dammit. We never were. You’re the guy who wanted to sleep with me, and then when things got tough, you just fucking walked away without a fight!” she yells, shocking me silent. “Oh, nothing to say now?” she sneers, her lip trembling before she wrestles it into submission.

  “Sin—”

  “When we met, I was dating someone else. I was already in what I thought was a relationship, Paris. Even if I liked you, I am not the kind of person who just walks away from a guy because someone cooler comes along. It just isn’t in me to hurt others that way, even if I know that they’re not worth my time. Cole was my boyfriend, and I owed it to him not to break up with him just because I was attracted to someone else. So I told myself, ‘It’s fine—we’re friends, and he’s cool,’ but you just kept pushing and pushing and pushing! Until I couldn’t take it anymore. If you’d just been a little more patient, I would have asked you out after I broke things off with Cole—hell, at the time, I was more than ready to jump you,” she snorts, her lip curling when I blink back at her and swallow loudly.

  “Why didn’t you? I was right there, just waiting.”

  “Waiting? You don’t wait for anything, Paris. You see something that catches your attention, and you want it to be yours immediately. And then, when you lose interest, you move on without looking back. I didn’t want to be just one more toy in a long line of toys, so I told myself that I was going to wait, to give you time to realize that this wasn’t just another short-lived, balls-to-the-wall, flash-in-the-pan kind of romance. You’re so…intense most of the time. You get hooked, and then you move on. And that isn’t a bad thing. Most people don’t realize just how fast they lose interest.”

  “I would never have lost interest in you,” I tell her, grinding my teeth to keep all the other words from spilling out.

  Because I won’t open myself up to more hurt. That part of my life is done. The next time I fall for someone, I am going to make damn sure that it’s easy and unlikely to hurt me. I can’t afford another heartbreak, and I won’t let myself love Sinai Sweet. I can’t. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about her and don’t want to help her.

  “I knew that, you idiot. When the six-month mark passed, and you were still grinning that naughty grin at me, I knew that we could make things work. I know that people look at me and think that I’m just an easy come, easy go kinda girl, but I’m not. I wanted a job I loved, and then I wanted to settle down with a man I loved. That’s all I have ever wanted. I didn’t dream of freedom and traveling the world, or any of the other things that most women want. I just wanted to fulfill my dreams, and by the time you came along, I was ready for all of it. You just couldn’t wait,” she says softly, a humorless smile curving her lips.

  “I did wait. Months.”

  “You didn’t wait. You kept pushing me to give everything to you right from the start. You never understood that I had to think things through, and then when I said, ‘Screw it, I’m doing this…’”

  “You missed your period,” I fill in, wincing when she sucks at her lip and looks away, blinking rapidly.

  “I thought that I was pregnant.”

  “You weren’t?” I ask, another shock hitting me when she sniffs and shakes her head, again refusing to meet my eyes.

  “Nope.”

  “Sin…I’m so sorry,” I whisper, flummoxed into silence as she gathers herself together and shrugs.

  “I deserve it. I walked into that clinic under my own steam, and I walked into Rosetta’s apartment building, too, knowing that I could be in danger and that I could be putting that nonexistent baby in danger. I don’t deserve to be a mom,” she says harshly, shaking her head sharply when I try to disagree. “It doesn’t matter that there wasn’t a baby; all that matters is that I thought there was, and I did those things anyway.”

  “That doesn’t mean—”

  “It means a lot of things, Paris, and from the expression on your face, it means a lot of what I was thinking and why I decided not to pursue something with you. That makes whatever we were thinking a moot point.”

  I want to argue that she’s wrong, and say something to take the hurt from her eyes, and yet I can’t—because she isn’t wrong. I want Sinai Sweet so badly that even now, all I can picture when I look at her is naked flesh and days of hot, sweaty pleasure. And I’ve been fully intending to get just that once she leaves this hospital and is healed enough to engage in more than light exercise.

  Now, though, I can’t say that I’ll have any of that, because what would be the use? Anything between us would never go anywhere, and no, it’s not just that we’re both too stubborn to make things work. The truth is, I can’t let myself feel more for her, and knowing what she’s been through—the whys of her actions and the reasons for her words, all of those things—makes me want to forgive her and offer her things that I’m not sure I even have to give.

  “I’ve always loved you, Sinai,” I whisper, my own eyes getting wet when she smiles tremulously and blows out a breath of pained air.

  “And I you, Hart. I really do love you. I just don’t have it in me to be something that I’m not. I’ve realized that I can’t be what I wanted to be, and I have to come to terms with that. On my own.”

  “We’re still friends—”

  “We were never friends, Paris. You know that as well as I do, and after the things I said and the things you did, we never will be. The best we can hope for is friendly strangers, if we’re lucky. Now, uh…I’d like some time alone.”

  Time alone. She’s had so much time alone to torture herself that I want to refuse, grab her up, and hug a
ll her hurt away. But I don’t do any of that. Instead, I walk over to kiss her cheek softly and then give her the space she needs.

  Or, more accurately, the space I need.

  Chapter Nine

  Sinai

  I could cry. I probably should cry. Normal people would cry and whine and grieve the hell out of what is essentially a death of sorts. I don’t cry, though, because what’s the fucking point? It’s stupid to feel as if I lost something I never had, and it’s even dumber to bemoan Paris’s lack of response when I kicked him out of my hospital room.

  What was I expecting him to say, huh? No, Sin, you’re wrong! Of course I love you and need you, and of course I don’t care that you can’t have children. Who needs kids when I have the love of my life for the rest of my days?

  Romantic drivel!

  Fuck you, Nicholas Sparks. None of your books are real.

  “You know, you really should not be drinking alcohol while taking those pills,” Tee points out as she slouches down beside me and manhandles the bottle of wine out of my hands.

  She swallows a few mouthfuls and then hands it back, shrugging when I quirk my brow.

  “Like I’m going to judge you for needing something to make things a little cloudy right now. I’m the last person who would ever judge you, Sin.”

  “Why not? Everyone else is. Rosetta won’t talk to me, Cleo keeps blaming this last failed wedding on me because I ‘hurt her so much that she needed a few weeks to mourn,’ and my own mom cuts our calls short when she bothers to call at all,” I say tonelessly, my eyes trained on the TV while everything goes blurry.

  It’s been two months since what I am now calling Carmaggedon, and I am worse off now than I was before. Half my family members are either pissed off at me, walking around on eggshells, or, in Mindy’s case, pretending like nothing happened.

  Of course, Paris went and blabbed on me, if that’s what you’re wondering with regard to this cold war of the Sweetharts. The fool went and got himself super-ass drunk and then cried on Adonis’s gossiping shoulder, and if he believed for one second that that asshole would keep things to himself, he was wrong. By the time I figured out why Honey wasn’t coming to visit, or why Jack was suddenly keeping his visits to ten minutes or less, I was so pissed that I almost killed James when he came to work me over that day.

  Tee saved me, though, and with her as my only champion, I’ve been relying on her for more than just moral support. Getting out of the hospital was a blessing and a curse that nearly killed me. Part of me still thinks that I should have died in that accident, and the other part of me is tap dancing on the lemons of my life while screaming with fury.

  I am jobless right now, and broke, because I used what little remained of my trust fund to commit what looked like embezzlement to the IRS—who, thank God, are not convicting me, though only because Rosetta used her connections to smooth things over.

  On top of all that, I got evicted from my apartment and now live with Tee, who luckily doesn’t seem at all put out by it, even though she once told me that she’d rather shoot her leg off than live with someone.

  Good old Tee. She took me in. Picked me up. And has been holding me up ever since, while I recover and try to fully heal. At first, I was angry. I mean, Uncle Jack should have been putting a few million into my bank account by now and telling me that everything was going to be all right. Where the hell was my bailout?

  But he didn’t do that, and then he made things worse by pointing out to me that if I hadn’t been irresponsible with my money, then I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. And I have to admit that he isn’t wrong. While Rosetta, Cleo, and even Alex have made a shit-ton of interest off the portion of their money that they don’t touch, I have never been similarly inclined. I have a shopping addiction, I like giving money to the needy, and I frittered a lot of it away without a second thought because it never occurred to me that I’d ever be without.

  Now I’m poor. Weeeell, okay, so I’m living in Tee’s luxury apartment, ordering food from a bistro every night, and sleeping on sheets with a thread count that would make silk feel like nettles against your skin. So I guess I’m doing pretty okay. If by okay I mean that I have one friend left, and I’ve been adopted by a stray cat that has fleas, one eye, and no tail.

  Then, I’m peachy keen.

  “Don’t sweat it. They’ll come around. I think that they’re all just hurt because they feel as if you lied to them,” Tee points out, snorting when I curse.

  “I didn’t mean to lie to anyone, Tee. It’s just…I didn’t know what to say. At first, I was so ashamed for going to that clinic, and then I was really sad, and then, I don’t know…it just…”

  “You were grieving, and when people grieve, they do weird shit. I get it. I told you to stop sweating it and just let them come to terms with things on their own. They’re not mad at you, Sin; they’re just confused and sad and a little unsure of how to approach this.”

  “What’s to get? I have defective ovaries that are so covered in cysts that there’s more cyst than ovary. I can’t have babies. Big fucking deal. There are lots of women out there who have the same problems—or worse,” I huff, almost believing it.

  Doc Troy was right—that is, in the last session I had, because I can’t afford to pay her anymore: if I keep telling myself these things, then one day I’ll believe them.

  “The problem is that you shut everyone out and turned into a cyborg. Or so Alex keeps telling me. Whatever, man. It’s not like I agree with them, anyway. You need to stop being so dramatic. It’s not like you’re friendless. Adonis calls you every day, Z sends you chocolates, and Ares texts you. Even Chilli tries to cheer you up.”

  “It’s doesn’t count as cheering me up when he offers to let me be the boys’ nanny, just because he doesn’t want to change any more diapers,” I snort, shuddering all over.

  My cousin Alex’s diaper-changing skills aren’t worth shit—no pun intended—so that means that Achilles ends up doing all that stuff. In fact, he’s been looking after the boys at work, because he doesn’t trust anyone but himself, and his mother, to care for them.

  “That was just his way of breaking the ice. Come on, you know you’re taking this whole thing too personally.”

  “Personally? Honey disinvited me to our Sunday lunches!” I yell, wincing when I bang my leg against the coffee table.

  With my new boot on, it’s a little easier to move around now, but the damn thing still aches like the dickens.

  “What are you complaining about? At least you don’t ever have to eat something that makes you shit so hard that your asshole bleeds,” Tee yells back, bursting into a fit of giggles when I consider this and concede the point.

  “That is true, although it also hurt my feelings when Mindy stopped dropping by. I thought she was my friend.”

  “Friend, schmend! I’m your friend. She’s just the loser who dropped you like a day-old turd. Besides, she’s been busy. I heard she got a new contract to cater the hospital’s desserts, and she’s been dating Nate. Again. They’re not exclusive, though.”

  “They hit third yet?” I ask, snorting when Tee rolls her eyes.

  “No. It seems that she only gets frisky when she’s hammered on three sips of wine, and Nate, being the idiot he is, refuses to take advantage of that. I hate to say it, Sin, but those two are not looking likely. Not that I was betting on them, anyway.”

  “You weren’t?” I ask, a little surprised because I really thought that things were looking good on that score.

  “Nah. Nate is too much man for Mindy, and Mindy is too much…something else for a guy like Nate. I set him up with Camden.”

  “The other therapist you just hired?” I ask, frowning because I’ve met her, and she’s awesome.

  She’s also hot, and she sends me baked goods when she buys stuff for the office, which basically means that I get to hear from Tee just how great my slice of cake tasted when she ate it mid-afternoon. Stupid pig.

  “Yep. And
I think they hit it off. I caught Nate dropping her off this morning, and she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, a big smile, and a dreamy look. Nate wasn’t looking too down in the mouth, either,” she laughs, giving me a high five that makes me feel as guilty as hell.

  “Poor Mindy.”

  “Poor Mindy, my ass. Look, Sin, I love the girl, and if she ever needed help, I’d be there, but you have to face the facts. She isn’t exactly what I would call a good fit for Nate. She’s too judgy, and then too sweet, and when she’s not annoying the hell out of everyone, she’s just weird. She dyes her hair red, and she wears the same perfume that you do, even though I’ve heard you tell her a million times that it’s not her scent.”

  That’s true, but in her defense, I think that Minds is just trying to fit in. I’ve known her since we were knee-high to a grasshopper, and since we were in the same class, I’m a lot more familiar with her than the rest of them are. She isn’t a bad person; she’s just a little clingy. Which is why I was never friends with her until very recently.

  On that note, I still don’t know how we became friends, anyway. I guess that I just needed someone to have around when everyone around me started getting married or engaged or, in Cleo’s case…whatever the hell it is that she’s doing with Adonis.

  She’s been good to me, and I feel like I owe it to her to be at least a little bit loyal.

  “She’s cool. Even you have to admit that she’s growing on you.”

  “Like a fungus,” Tee mutters, squinting her eyes at the TV. “Is that Channing Tatum? God, I don’t like that guy.”

  “Are you nuts? Don’t you dare change the channel. That man is gorgeous,” I mutter, grabbing the remote before she can switch channels.

  “He’s too aware of his looks, and it grosses me out when men know how hot they are. I prefer the guy from Black Panther. Mmm, mama likes me some Chadwick Boseman,” she moans, so longingly that I’m reminded of her lack of dates lately.