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Travis shook his head and looked back at Daire. “He called you a mistake. The fuck did you do?”
I didn’t look away nearly quick enough, because Daire caught my eyes, and I felt the same stab of pain from last night twist in my gut.
I also remembered his rough kisses along my spine and the way it felt to be taken by him so completely that I was still aching from it today. It would’ve been a good ache, too, if he hadn’t beensuch an ass afterward. I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have gone after yet another guy who was no good for me.
So when Daire turned away to stare out the window, muttering, “Nothing important happened,” it was entirely on brand.
Didn’t mean it didn’t suck to hear. He couldn’t even give me a full twelve hours to enjoy finally getting my way before going and ruining it.
Yeah. I’d definitely be slapping him again at some point today.
“I get it,” Travis said, leaning over the back of my seat to invade my space. “I always think I can change them too.”
“You wouldn’t have to change them if you’d stop going after the straight ones,” East said as he typed on his phone.
Travis shrugged. “What can I say? They love me. And I like a challenge.”
I looked up at his grinning face and kept my voice low. “This isn’t exactly the same thing.”
“Really? I can’t think of anything more challenging than trying to make Daire come.”
“I heard that, fucker,” Daire said.
Sighing, I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling stiff in all the wrong places. Travis dropped his hand to my shoulder.
“Sorry, man,” he said quietly. “I could’ve warned you off that one.” He gave me a squeeze and sat back, leaving me in peace for the rest of the ride.
Like I would’ve heeded his warning, or anyone’s. I knew all about Daire’s red flags—knew them and had brushed them aside to run straight into danger anyway. Why? Because I believed he was more than his tough exterior. Because I saw those flashes of vulnerability that no one else seemed to. Because he always protected me in his own way, and surely,surelythat meant something. ThatImeant something to him.
Whatever. I’d fucked around and found out, and now I was done. If he didn’t want me, then I was moving on and I’d find someone who did. Preferably someone who didn’t need therapy or underground fight clubs.
Maybe things would even go back to normal eventually, whatever that looked like. Daire could be just my roommate again, and I wouldn’t have to wonder how it would feel to be with him or dream about every possible way I could have him.
He’d stay the same way he’d always been, and I knew I would at least feel safe in his presence. At least physically.
And that would have to be enough.
TWENTY-SEVEN
daire
I LOOKED LIKE shit.
There were dark shadows under my eyes from not having slept well all week, and my hair wasn’t cooperating as I tried to smooth down a cowlick.
It was bullshit I even had to go spend my Friday night at Astor, but the dean had made it a requirement. Some new band was putting on a special performance, blah blah blah, it would be televised, blah blah, who gave a shit.
Giving up on my hair, I grabbed a black shirt from my closet and buttoned it up to my chest, leaving me a little room to breathe. The silver chain of the necklace I always wore glinted under the bathroom lights as I gave myself a once-over.
Still a shit-tastic view.
Oh, who cares. I’m just gonna lurk in a corner anyway.
I flicked off the light, grabbed my wallet and my phone, and headed out to the kitchen to fill up a flask. There was no way I’d get through one of these things sober, and Astor wouldn’t be supplying the goods.
Opening a cabinet, I looked over my options and grabbed a thin leather flask that would fit easily in my pocket.
“Grab me one too.”
