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My jaw clenches as my molars grind together.What I did to Isaac?
“Is there a better prize than that?” he asks.
“And how the hell am I supposed to know if she wants you or not? You think she’ll admit that to me?” I ask with fiery resentment.
“Oh, trust me, Caleb. I will let you know. And I’ll savor the look on your face when you find out.”
“Fine, you arrogant son of a bitch,” I reply sternly. “Do your best, but I promise you, Briar will never fall for you.”
“We’ll see about that.”
He grins as he backs away from the door and then slams it in my face.
Fifteen
Dean
I’m burning with rage. That asshole seriously knocked on my door to accuse me of being a home-wrecker, completely unwarranted.
Yes, I’ve fantasized about seducing his wife, but I haven’t actually done anything. Yet.
God, he infuriates me. Caleb Goode is the most self-righteous, arrogant, inconsiderate asshole I’ve ever met. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I tell him how easy it was to tempt his wife. He thinks he can just bully and control anyone he wants, but he can’t control me.
I spend the rest of my night stewing in my apartment. Feeling this fired up nearly has me wanting to try to get off again. But I decide not to even bother. It’s hopeless, and my efforts would be better spent proving that egotistical asshole wrong.
I hear a car door closing outside, and I peer out my window to see Briar walking up the paved walkway toward the house.
For a moment, as I watch her, I feel a hint of regret for playing her like a pawn in our game. She doesn’t deserve to be used like that. But she also doesn’t deserve to suffer through a lousy marriage.
If I could just make her see that, she’d be so much better off with someone who could please her…
As she reaches the house, I notice the way her gaze flits up toward my window. For a moment, our eyes meet, and she waves softly up at me. I wave back.
She scurries into the house, where her husband waits for her, and I bide my time. She’ll come knocking. I know she will.
Until then, I busy myself with tidying up my tiny place. I check in on my dad with a quick phone call. He’s still up and spends at least twenty minutes complaining about the same nurse as last time. I don’t bother telling him that it sounds like he’s in love, but I keep a smirk on my face the entire time.
His mood sounds better, but his voice is raspier, and he seems to be losing his breath more. It’s almost as if his body is giving out faster than his spirit, a thought that makes me nauseous with grief.
After our call, I sit on the couch and scroll through my phone for a while. Somehow, I end up looking through flashback photos on Insta of my high school days. Most of the photos are of me and Isaac.
Seeing how happy we were only fueling my hatred for his brother. Isaac was more than my best friend. Everyone knew that. We might have started as friends, but it didn’t take long until everything changed. For me. For him. For us.
Isaac was the catalyst. It was as if my life had completely ended and then began again with one kiss.
And if there’s one truth that has kept me anchored to him after all this time, it’s this—if Isaac’s family had been different, we would have stayed together for a long time. We would have been happy. I know that in my heart.
We might have just been kids, but I meant as much to him as he did to me. He just didn’t have a choice. His father threw him out. His brothers didn’t save him. And because of them, he and I didn’t stand a chance. I couldn’t leave my father.
Even if Isaac had given me a chance, I still wouldn’t have been able to go with him.
I don’t know how long I sit on my couch and stew in my resentment when I hear the light tapping on the door. I glance down at the time on my phone, eleven forty-five.
Perfect.
I climb from the couch and rush to the front door, opening it to find Briar standing there with a bottle of wine in her hand.
“It feels weird to drink alone now,” she says with a sheepish smile.
