This whole thing started because… I don’t know anymore. I’m not sure what I was after. If I was doing this for her. Or if it was for me. If I needed revenge or closure or something in between.
I’m a clueless mess.
But I know one thing: I haven’t got any patience for this bullshit. “Don’t pretend you care.”
Her eyes turn down. ” I do.”
I swallow my vodka. This is my second glass of straight vodka. My fourth drink of the—it’s past midnight, so I guess that makes it morning. My head is spinning. My heart is heavy. My stomach is in knots.
But my inhibitions?
Those are long gone.
“What the fuck did you say to her?” I swallow another sip. Let the booze warm my mouth and throat.
“I didn’t—”
“You did.”
She stares at me with mock horror. We’ve spent the last hour making small talk, dancing around this bullshit, replaying her twenty-third birthday.
The birthday where we snuck out of her party so we could fuck like rabbits.
Maybe Skye is right. Maybe I’m a caveman. But I’m not an idiot.
I know what Mack is doing.
“What did you say?” I finish my drink in one long gulp. Suck every drop of vodka from an ice cube.
“Only that… I’m worried about her. About you.” She meets my gaze. “The timing is coincidental.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, and Skye is my cousin. My friend. If you’re using her—”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Surprise streaks her face. “Forest—”
“You’re here, flirting with me, the night before your wedding. After cheating on me with the asshole you’re marrying. And you want to accuse me of using her?”
“Those things aren’t… I’m not flirting.” She takes a long sip. Sets her drink on the counter. “I’m just…”
“It’s scary. I get that. And I don’t blame you for flirting. Fuck, I don’t blame you for wanting more.”
“I’m not—”
“I don’t know what you’re after, Mack, but I—”
She leans close enough to grab my wrist.
Fuck, that strawberry shampoo.
For a second, memories flood my head. Our first kiss. The bonfire on the beach. The smile when I told her I loved her.
Then I smell her shampoo—that same shampoo—and my stomach turns.
Ugly memories replace the pretty ones. Our empty apartment. The pale pink sheets. Her red nails in Diego’s back.
His name falling off her lips.
“Forest, I…”
“Whatever it is, don’t.”
“But—”
“I don’t care, Mack. I don’t care if you’re scared. If you’re looking for an out. If you’re about to say ‘take me to my room’ or ‘I’m sorry I hurt you. It was the worst thing I ever did, and I’d never do that to Diego.’ I don’t care anymore.”
Her eyes fill with disappointment.
I don’t want to hold her.
I don’t want to comfort her.
I don’t want to help her.
She’s hurting and I don’t give a fuck.
She doesn’t have my heart anymore.
“I don’t care if you hurt me. I really don’t.” I stand. Pull three twenties from my wallet. Drop them on the bar. “But if you try to hurt Skye again, it will be the last thing you ever do.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Yeah. It is.” I would kill for Skye. I’d do anything for her. “She was right. She needed me. As a shield. And I’m going to protect her.”
Mack pouts.
“Stay the fuck away from her.”
“We’re family—”
“Show up at Thanksgiving. Say hello. Carve the turkey. Then stay the fuck away from her. Don’t ask if she’s okay. Don’t pretend you care what’s wrong. Don’t say you want to be friends.”
“I do.”
“Too bad. You’re done.” I slip my wallet into my jeans. Take a step backward. “You’re not hurting her again. Not on my watch.”
“I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Then don’t.” I take another step backward. “Congratulations, Mack. You’re going to be a beautiful bride.” As for the rest of it?
I don’t give a fuck.
As long as she stays away from Skye. It’s going to be hard to make sure that happens if Skye’s done with me.
But I—
Maybe I don’t have the right words yet. Maybe I’m not enough for her yet.
But I can get there.
I just need time. I need to convince her to give me time.
Even if she won’t, I need to make sure she’s okay.
I go straight to the parking lot, call a ride share, text my brother while I wait.
Forest: Is she okay?
Holden: She’s in bed, yeah.
Forest: You’re at her place?
Holden: Yeah. We just fucked. She’s better than I ever hoped. And that mouth? God damn, I can see why you’re into her. Get real, Forest. I’m on the couch.
Forest: I don’t know with you.
Holden: That’s how I like it.
Forest: Is she okay?
Holden: She’s hurt, but she’ll get there.
Forest: I have an idea.
Holden: That’s new for you.
Forest: You remember when I caught you doing the spade on your ankle?
Holden: How could I forget?
Forest: Remember where I put it?
Holden: You have a point?
Forest: Got one in you today?
Holden: There was a hottie asking me that a few hours ago.