Baby.
No. No. No. That sounds so wrong coming from his mouth.
“I know this is a lot,” he says, into the silent room. “I know you weren’t expecting this, but maybe now, with Pierce out of the way—”
“You went through my laundry,” I finally say, because that’s what this is, isn’t it? “You took my shit for months, listening to me talk about how it was upsetting me, and you never said a word, you neverstopped.”
“I know,” he says, trying to come off apologetic, but his jaw clenches when I challenge him. “I know it was wrong. But I didn’t know how else to get your attention.”
“ I thought we were friends…”
“That’s not what I wanted. You knew that.” His voice turns when he says that. Accusing me even though I had no idea he wanted more. I didn’t even know he liked guys.
“And then you went and started sleeping with Pierce.” He laughs, but nothing about the way he says those words is funny. “Mike fucking Pierce, of all people. God—” He shakes his head. “Do you know how that felt? Having to watch that douche withmy-”
“Ryan—”
“I forgive you for it,” he says, like he’s doing me a favor. “We can move past it. You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”
He reaches out and puts his hand on my arm.
“When I heard about Jason,” he says, his thumb caressing my skin. “I couldn’t wait any longer.” His eyes move over my face with a look that makes my skin crawl. “You’ve been through so much, baby. You need someone who can take care of you.”
The sound of Jason’s name in his mouth does something to me.
He took my shit, and he called himself my friend, and every second we’ve spent together for the last two years has been a lie. Just him waiting for the right time to make his move.
I am so fucking tired of people deciding I belong to them.
He starts to lean in, taking my silence for acceptance. I use the distraction to pull out of his grip, putting space between us, until the backs of my legs hit my bed.
“Alex,” he starts, squinting in confusion.
“No.”
I look at him, this person I thought I knew, that I thought was my friend, and I hold my ground even though my hands are shaking. “I’m not interested in you like that. I never have been.”
“You don’t have to decide right now—”
“I just decided.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Yes, you are.” He moves toward me, reaching, and whatever survival instinct takes over my body, I’m thankful for it, because one second, he’s reaching for me, and the next, my fist is connecting with his face.
I’ve never punched another person in my life, and my last good hand hurts, but it was worth it, because he snaps back with a pained sound, holding his face while I turn the lock and pull the door open.
I walk as quickly as I can down the hall, down the stairs, aware that he could be behind me, but not wanting to draw attention to myself. Outside, it’s freezing, but I keep moving, my heart pounding, the winter air burning my lungs.
I make it half a block before I realize I’m still holding the Spider-Man boxers.
I keep walking.
Chapter 23
I didn’t make the conscious decision to come here.
All I know is, I’m walking through campus, trying to get control of myself before I have a very public panic attack, and at some point, I find myself crossing the street I called home for the last five months.
