I know that I’m an asshole.
I know that I’ve taken my heartbreak and let it fester.
I know that I’m hiding behind my anger.
Because if I let that go, if I let go of that anger, then all I’m left with is the hurt.
“Okay, well, call me later?” Cat hesitates on the other side of the door.
I want to scream at her to leave. That I don’t want her here. That I don’t even like her. That I’ve been using her from the very beginning. But I say none of those things.
“Yep. Will do,” I respond through gritted teeth.
“Okay, see you later, Penn.”
“Yep. Later.”
“I love you.”
Shit...
I don’t say a word.
Instead, I quickly lurch toward the shower and turn it on, hoping that she’ll deduce that I didn’t hear her over the water.
I don’t know why she would say that to me. I’ve not given her any indication that I feel anything real for her. I rack my brain for something, anything that I might have said last night that would warrant her to say those three words to me.
And then it hits me.
Last night. Just before I passed out. I was picturing London, daydreaming that she was the one lying next to me. And I said it. I said I love you. In my drunken state, I just said it, only I didn’t mean it for Cat.
Shit...
Feeling suddenly so dirty I want to peel out of my own skin, I shuck my boxers and jump into the too hot shower. I spend the next ten minutes practically scrubbing myself raw. Whether to cleanse myself of my mistake, or to punish myself for it, I’m not sure. All I know is that when I finally exit the shower, my skin is so red and tender that I feel like I’ve been dipped in acid.
This is all London’s fault. As if her returning wasn’t bad enough, she had the gall to show up at my company to work. In just a short amount of time, she’s wormed her way into my brother’s good graces. She’s got most of the guys who work for me eating out of the palm of her hand. And now, apparently, she’s hanging out with Travis Baker of all people.
Don’t get me wrong, Trav is a good guy and all, but when it comes to women, he’s not exactly what I would call boyfriend material. If him bragging about his conquests to anyone who will listen is any indication, he’s only after one thing and I’ll be damned if I let that happen.
“What are you going to do about it?” I ask my reflection in the mirror as I squirt toothpaste on my toothbrush.
What am I going to do about it?
WhatcanI do about it?
London is a big girl. She can take care of herself.
Besides, maybe a good dose of reality is exactly what she needs.
Even as I think it, I can’t let go of the irrational possessiveness I feel over her. Maybe because deep down I refuse to believe that London will ever be anything but mine. Even if she’s the furthest thing from mine a person can be.
I didn’t think I could be any more messed up over this situation than I already was, but once again, London Voss has proven me wrong. At this point, I’m pretty convinced that woman will be the death of me.
She already killed me once. Tore my heart out and crushed it in her unforgiving hands. What’s the worst she could do to me now?
Though even as I think the question, I already know the answer.
A hell of a lot worse, if the way I’m feeling right now is any indication...
