“Doesn’t it feel so much better when you do what I ask, pretty girl?”
Before she has a chance to answer, I shove her head back and crash my mouth to hers, needing to taste her as much as I need to formulate my next breath.
And if kissing her in public causes her problems, well.
So be it.
30
Turning my phone in my hands, I try to suppress the anxiety coursing through me. My brother’s name lights up the screen, an incoming video chat, and I’m sitting in the bath with my clothes on, hoping that Aiden’s done stalking me for the day so I can talk in peace.
The odds aren’t particularly in my favor, especially given his knack for showing up out of nowhere, but hope still springs eternal in my chest.
I’ve never been much of an optimist, but I’m trying to convince myself so my brother doesn’t worry. Because I fear I may not have been taking this situation as seriously as I should have, and I already know what he’d say about it.
Sucking in a deep breath, I accept the call, and Boyd’s stoic face fills the screen.
“Surprise, still alive,” I joke, the words tumbling out before I can catch them.
Somehow, his expression flattens even more. “Did you turn in the hotel project I sent you before the holiday break? They’re saying they didn’t receive it.”
The smile drops from my face, fake as it is, and sadness swirls in my stomach. Nodding, I pinch the inside of my thigh, grounding myself in that pain so I don’t have to acknowledge the internal.
“I uploaded it Sunday night. It should be in their box folder, but I can double-check.”
“No point in double-checking right now,” he says, tone sharp, like a blade sawing against my throat. “They’re gone for the week. Make sure it’s there by Monday for when they come back, and hopefully they’ll still pay you in full.”
Leaning my head back against the lip of the tub, I don’t say anything else. Frankly, I’m not sure where to even go from here. Not sure why he called.
After a prolonged silence, where we just stare at each other through the screen, I try something else. “How are things in King’s Trace?”
“Why do you care?”
My eyebrows shoot up into my hairline, and my vision goes lax as my nose burns with the urge to burst into tears. Running my tongue over my teeth, I try to think of a response, but nothing comes out.
The thoughts in my head play like a broken record, sentences forming halfway and then getting skipped over before they can be vocalized.
Boyd groans, scratching at his jaw. “Fuck, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How’d you mean it, then?”
“I don’t know.” He looks over the camera, hazel eyes unfocusing for a beat, before returning to me. “I guess I’ve been hoping your new life would erase your ties to this place. Help you forget the people here and get you to a place where you don’t care anymore.”
My throat feels like it’s on fire, but I swallow the flames down anyway. “You want me to stop caring about the people I spent my whole life with?”
“I want you to move on.” His jaw clenches, a muscle jumping beneath his eye. “That was the whole point of the move, right? To start fresh. You can’t do that if you’ve still got ghosts across the country.”
Picking at a worn piece of grout in the tub tile, I consider his words, trying to decipher the place they’re being spoken from.
But I just keep coming up empty.
“What did I ever do to you, Boyd?” My voice is so soft that I barely even hear it, and when he just continues staring, I’m not sure if I actually said them or not. I open my mouth to try again, and he just shakes his head.
“What?”
Chewing on my bottom lip, I shrug. “I just mean, what did I do to make you hate me? I thought things were okay for a while, before…” Pausing to take a breath, I force it shakily from my lungs. “Before New York. But now it’s like we’re right back where we were before Mom died.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
I swallow, the fire in my throat hardening into a thick, ashen knot. “Of course not. God forbid you experience real, human emotions for once in your life.”
His eyes flare, fury sparking. He’s quiet for a long time, just watching me through the lens, and then he sighs, running a hand over his face.
“Emotions are overrated, Riley.” Pulling away, he works his jaw from side to side, eyes shifting off camera again. “They should be reserved for things that matter.”
Pain slices through my chest, and it feels like I’m being flayed wide open—all over again. Like he’s reached right inside the cavity, taken my heart in his hands, and stabbed right through the organ.
Shifting, I tilt my phone toward the ceiling, unable to keep the tears at bay. Mouth open, my tongue swipes at my scar, my body’s natural attempt at a defense.
It’s not supposed to sting this much. Not after the physical pain I’ve endured, and the years of emotional abuse at the hands of our mother, and eventually, myself.
And yet, it’s his words that sear a path straight to my soul. Embed themselves in my bones, rooting in the marrow and creating a hurt so deep that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to extract it.
Somehow, the invisible wounds scar the worst.
“Riley?” he’s saying, trying to draw me back. Maybe to apologize, or say that he didn’t mean it. Or maybe just to move on, changing the subject.
Whatever the case, I don’t want to stick around for more.
My thumb hovers over the call end button, and as my name grows frenzied from his mouth, I hang up.
The phone falls from my hand into the tub, and I push to my feet on wobbly legs. My face in the mirror is red and splotchy, and I swipe my fingers under my eyes, trying to erase the evidence before I head to Caleb’s house for Thanksgiving dinner.
I change quickly, pulling a pleated lavender skirt over black knee-high socks, and slipping into a black cashmere sweater that Fiona gave me two Christmases ago.
Smoothing my hand down over the outfit, I contemplate disobeying Aiden’s orders to go without makeup. No one’s said anything in the days since I stopped wearing it, probably out of discomfort more than anything, but I still feel the weight of their curious glances.
Still, I’d rather them look at the scars than talk about why a rock star randomly showed up in town, and then kissed me in front of a fan at the diner.
My lips are still tingling from it, the appreciation in his eyes just before almost enough to make me forget why he’s here in the first place.
Which probably makes me the village idiot, but whatever.
At least I’ll die satisfied.
Smearing some cocoa butter balm onto my lips, I forego anything else on my face and exit the bathroom, hoping the puffiness around my eyes goes away before I get to Caleb’s.
If I get to Caleb’s.
My stomach flips as I enter the bedroom to find Aiden lounging on my bed, wearing a Sid Vicious T-shirt and jeans. His legs hang over the side, and his back is stretched out on the mattress, dwarfing the furniture.
He rolls his head when I walk in, turning to look at me. Silver eyes rake slowly over my body, and the way he strokes his bottom lip with his thumb has me clenching my thighs together.