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Dean flips her off.
Fuck, these guys are assholes.
Kaylee's feelings are a joke to them.
It's not like I can talk. I'm the one that started this bullshit.
But I've had enough.
"I gotta piss." I push myself to my feet. Do my best not to storm out of the room.
Fucking Dean.
Bane of my fucking existence.
I try to shake it off. This shit isn't his fault. It's mine.
But that knowledge does nothing to untangle the knot in my gut.
Where the hell is she?
Nowhere in this hallway. Or the next.
I move through the lobby. Step outside.
She's not out front. Not anywhere outside the stores of this strip mall.
Fuck, I'm going to hit something. Or someone.
I find the nearest quiet spot. The alley next to the frozen yogurt place.
There.
I step around the corner ready to deck the fucking wall.
But she's there.
God, the sight of her eases every ugly thought in my head.
The green eyes, the blue glasses, the short skirt—that's Kaylee.
My Kay.
"Brendon." Her voice is a whisper. A plea. A stop hurting me.
"Kay." I close the distance between us. Ten feet. Five. Two. One.
She looks up at me. "You know Dean is just messing with you."
"It's working." My body takes over. One palm plants on her hips. Presses hard enough to pin her to the wall.
Her breath catches in her throat. "Brendon... I... I'm sorry. Tell me what I can do. Please. Anything."
"You saw every single one of my drawings?"
She nods.
"And you're sure you want that?"
