Lightning flashes in the distance,cracking through the atmosphere with no mercy—the same way today’s revelations shattered every fiber of my being. Betrayal is just an eight-letter word, but it runs so damn deep. It’s a life-changing pain, one that you’d do anything to rid yourself of, and I’m fucking drowning in it.
“Kennedy,” Easton says, my name a broken plea falling from his lips.
“Don’t.”
He exhales heavily. “Please. You have to believe me.”
Believe him? I can hardly even look at him. “Stop talking.”
“We didn’t do anything,” he repeats for what feels like the millionth time. “I swear to God.”
“Fuck you,” I sneer. “Fuck you for thinking that makes it better. That keeping your dick in your pants excuses the fact that you lied to me for weeks. And that’s if I even believe you, because right now, I have no reason to.”
Staring out the window, I watch as the rain pounds against the glass. A part of me wants to stand in the middle of it—let it pour down on me and wash away every inkling of his touch on my skin. Rid myself of this.
Of him.
Of us.
And yet I stand here, refusing to leave the room, because if I walk out that door, I might never come back, and that's scarier than any storm.
“How did we end up here?” I whisper, the pain in my voice cutting through the silence like a razor blade.
I watch in the reflection of the glass as he runs his hands over his face. He doesn't try to answer, because there's nothing he can say that can make this better. No words can bring us back to before this. Back to when everything was perfect. Before he broke every promise he ever made me, and for a girl who will never look at him the way he wishes she would.
Two Years Earlier
Ever since middle school, I fantasized about what it would be like to go to college. The idea of getting to live with friends and be on my own, it seemed like heaven. I always have been a bit of a free spirit, but I don't think anything I pictured matched up to the real thing. For the first time in our young lives, we're treated as adults. Adults who will inevitably make really questionable decisions, but adults nonetheless.
“Are you sure about this?” Amelia questions.
I look over at my blonde bombshell of a roommate and smile. “Positive. He's not even going to know what to do with himself. I promise.”
She still looks unsure but nods anyway and loops her arm with mine. The two of us step into our first ever college party, and it's everything I thought it would be.
Red solo cups in everyone's hands.
People making out in all corners of the room.
Guys who look unfairly hot—one in particular.
For the most part, these parties are exactly like the ones we threw in high school, but the vibe is totally different. It's like we have a right to be here. Like we earned it or something.
Amelia spins around to face me, looking like she's going to spontaneously combust. “I don't know if I can do this.”
Sighing, I take my focus off the party and put it on her. “I know you can. Look at you!” I blatantly admire her perfect body. “You look fucking hot. He'd be crazy not to realize that.”
I grab her wrist and turn to find Zayn, the guy who has her nerves in a frenzy. As soon as my gaze lands on the familiar bad boy, I move to pull her toward him, but I'm stopped by a six-foot wall of sex on legs.
Fuck.
Easton Donovan is Amelia's brother, and everything wet dreams are made of. His dark brown hair hangs down into his chocolate eyes, making him flip it out of the way. And if the fact that he's drop-dead gorgeous wasn't enough, the smile he's giving his sister makes him even hotter.
“You made it,” he says to Amelia, and then his attention turns to me. “Kenna, right?”
I giggle to hide my disappointment. “Close. Kennedy.”
“Sorry, Kennedy,” he corrects himself.