I come to a dead stop, the sound of the nearby pool beckoning. There’s a string of replies telling Bryce where he can go and what he can do when he gets there, but I’ve had it.
Bellethehikingviking: @BGriff1166, you gave up the right to worry about who’s sticking what in me when you stuck your dick in another girl. Hike your own hike and stay out of mine. We’re done. #BetterOffWithoutYou
Rather pleased with myself, I turn the screen off and head into the pool area. Kids are running around, jumping into the pool and sending up sprays of water. Bored parents lounge about the edges, happy their kids are entertained. I spot Grinder and Bats splashing around in the deep end, but Nova isn’t with them.
I spot a trio of women we’ve crossed paths with a few times. They left Campo about the same time as us. Then joined us in the hot tub at Idyllwild. One of them, a redhead named Angie, is sitting on some guy’s lap, kissing the hell out of him. Huh. I haven’t seen her with any guys. Maybe a random trail hookup? Good for her.
Angie stops kissing the guy when she spots me. Giving me a lazy wave, she calls out, “Hey, Belle.”
The guy she’s sitting on snaps his attention toward me, and . . .
No.
No.
Not . . .
My voice cracks along with my heart. “Nova?” I turn and run, not wanting to believe what’s right in front of me.
There’s a loud clatter as Nova yells out, “Belle. Wait.”
But I don’t stop.
I don’t turn.
I run.
All the way back to the cabin.
***
“Belle, open up,” Nova pleads as he bangs on my closed door. “Please.”
The same questions cross my mind over and over. How could I have been so naive? Did I fall for the same type of asshole again? Why did I ever agree to stay with these guys? With Casa-fucking-Nova? Grinder tried to warn me. Told me what I should have done three weeks ago. I should have invited him to my room in Idyllwild to fuck him and forget him. Get on with my own damn hike and not get involved with another fucking guy.
I roll over on the bed, checking my phone for the hundredth time. I don’t know what to do, but Rachel would. She’d know how to get out of this mess. But my calls keep going to voice mail and my texts are going unanswered.
Nova tries again, knocking on the door and pleading with me. “Belle, please. It’s not what you think. I swear.”
Fuck it.
I’ve had it.
I roll out of bed and cross the room in angry stomps, throwing the door open hard enough to make the pictures on the walls rattle. “Not what I think? What about what I saw, Casanova?” I spit out. “Specifically. YOU,” I scream, shoving a pointed finger into his chest, pleased when he winces in pain. “Kissing another woman. How could you? You know what happened to me. You know about Bryce. How could you do that to me?” Hot tears dampen my cheeks as the floodgates of my emotions burst open. Casanova looks back at me, his mouth opening to respond, but I wave his bullshit answer aside. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care. You know why I wanted to take things slow. It’s like they say, good things come to those that wait. I am a good thing, Kayden. Now, you’ll never know how good.” I slam the door and stomp back to the bed, flopping down to stare at the ceiling through tear filled eyes.
It’s not a minute later before Nova’s knocking again, softer, but just as pestering. Pleading for me to open the door and let him talk. “Please, Belle. I don’t want to lose you. Not like this. I can’t . . .”
I’m about to get up and give him another piece of my mind when there’s a loud, “Umph,” followed by a loud thunk, then everything goes quiet. Mostly. There are voices on the other side of the door, but they aren’t directed at me for once. After a few minutes of silence, I contemplate taking a peek outside my room, but my phone dings next to me.
BATS: I sent the guys to go pick up dinner. Can we talk?
I sniff, swiping at my snotty nose, and noticing the lack of tissue in the room. Crap. I get up and cross to the door, still not certain there’s anything to talk about. Cracking the door open, I take a careful peek outside, where Bats is sitting alone on the couch.
“Belle . . .” Bats starts.
I open the door a little wider and cut him off. “I could use some tissue.” Bats looks at me for a moment, mouth open mid-sentence. He closes it and nods. Rising, he heads into the bathroom, appearing a moment later with a box. I take it and repay his kindness with the best smile I can give him, which isn’t much. “Thanks,” I mutter.
A quiet moment passes between us as I wipe snot from my face. I don’t know what he sees written on my face. Do I care at this point? I’m too numb from the conflicting emotions battling between my heart and my head. Bats can tell, and his concern shows in his eyes. I’m sorry for that. I wish I could tell him as much, but I don’t trust myself around these guys right now.
“Are you okay?” he asks. Not like he needs or expects an explanation, he wants to know the simplest answer. Just to check and be certain.
Am I okay? Not really. I’m the farthest thing from okay. But I can’t tell Bats that.
“Belle . . .”
“If you’re going to try to defend him, then stop,” I snap. “I don’t want to hear it. I know what I saw.”
“Do you?”
My gaze snaps up to meet Bats’ stone gray eyes. The question makes me pause, but I shake it off, unwilling to believe Bats would take Casanova’s side. Then again, of course he would. They’re a trio. The family you find is sometimes thicker than the family you’re born with, and these three are as strong as iron.
“I can’t,” I whisper. “I can’t do this, Nick. Not again. I’m sorry.”
Gripping the box of tissues, I close the door and head back to bed. A minute later, my phone dings.
BATS: Text if you need anything.
If I had the first damn clue what I needed, I’d tell him. He wouldn’t press. Wouldn’t try to fix anything. He’d get me what I need and leave me be. But he can’t get a hold of Rachel for me. I bury my face in the first pillow I find as the tears roll down my cheeks once more, praying she calls soon.
***
I can’t sleep.
Toss.
Turn.
Cry.
Repeat.