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I lift my head to find him staring at me. “I’m glad you’re here, Rachel. ” He slides his fingers around my wrist and the brush of his skin against mine melts my muscles like hot dripping butter.
Disgust immediately weaves through me. I’m so pathetic. He never called. Isaiah never freaking called, and with a few words and a few caresses I fall right back to where I started: as a stupid naive girl.
I step away and push my bangs from my face. I can’t do this. I can’t let him toy with me. I’ve got a couple hundred dollars saved from my birthday and Christmas. I’ll pawn some of my jewelry. I’ll beg Eric for more time. Anything other than having my heart ripped out. “This is a mistake. I’ll figure it out on my own. ”
As I walk past him, toward my coat, toward the door, Isaiah grabs my hand. “What’s wrong. ” It’s not a question. It’s a demand.
“You said I was a one-night stand. ” I jerk my hand, but he doesn’t give. Anger flares through me and I jerk harder. “You said I meant nothing!”
His hand slips away. “I never said you were a one-night stand. Rachel. . . I could never think of you as a fuck. ”
I wince from the word leaving his mouth and hate how he inclines his head in pity as he notices the weakness.
“But Eric did,” I say. “And you didn’t argue. ”
“I’m sorry,” he says simply as if that will wash away a week’s worth of ignoring me.
My throat burns as tears threaten my eyes. I should keep my mouth shut and bolt. Instead, I stay and say the stupid words. “I waited for you to call. You said you would. You said you liked me. And then you tell Eric I meant nothing. ”
“I showed for you. ” A bit of irritation leaks into his voice. “I got into Eric’s face for you. ”
“Because you owe me! Because I stopped my car and let you drive it until we ditched the police. ”
His expression becomes a brewing storm. “It’s not like that. ”
I throw my arms out in a mock parody of not caring, but the truth is I do. I care so much about this guy that he’s tearing me to shreds. “So you don’t owe me?”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters as his hands fist at his sides. “I do owe you. ”
He wants to say more, but I can’t listen to lies. “Just say it, Isaiah. Cut the crap and say that I was a game. Tell me how I was the stupid, pathetic rich girl you tried to sleep with. Just say it and then we’ll figure a way out of this mess without you having to charm me into doing what you want. ” Without you breaking what’s left of my soul. “Just say it!”
But before he can say anything, the door to the garage creaks open. I turn my head reluctantly in time to catch two people who look roughly our age shuffling in. The guy is tall, looming over the girl who, if it’s possible, is shorter than me. Her eyes dart between me and Isaiah and finally settle on him. “Hello, Isaiah,” she says.
Her ripped blue jeans and blond hair with black streaks scream that she’s fine with danger. She’s beautiful, and by the way she holds herself, she’s confident—strong. I wipe at my eyes and angle my body in the opposite direction of her. My chest moves with the heavy beating of my heart and a moronic, traitorous tear falls.
Isaiah lowers his head and utters a curse. I can tell by how he tries not to look at her, yet keeps doing so that this girl means something to him. Guess he just got busted for cheating on her—with me.
Chapter 27
Isaiah
“HELLO, ISAIAH. ” MY NAME ON the lips of few can cause my world to stall. As if in slow motion, I turn my head and watch her sweep into my life as if she never left.
“Fuck,” I mumble. Would it be so damn difficult for the universe to give me a break? Rachel flips her golden hair over her shoulder to prevent me from examining her face.
“Am I interrupting?” Beth asks as she glides farther into the garage. A million questions form, but the return of the dull ache in my body deters me from voicing any of them. She’s still gorgeous: a tiny pissed-off fairy, but her hair is different. She wears it chin-length now and blond has replaced the black except for two stripes of the color I knew.
“Yes,” I say with way too much anger. Beth notices and mockingly raises one brow.
A guy I don’t know strolls in. I straighten and feel my muscles flex. What the hell? Has she already run through the guy she chose over me and come here to show off another? Beth glances behind her before squaring her gaze back on me. “Isaiah, this is Logan. He’s a friend of mine. . . and Ryan’s. ”
Dressed in a jock jacket with a big letter B on the front and his name embroidered underneath it, the kid nods at me. On the white arm of the coat, two baseball bats cross over each other. The guy Beth fell for, Ryan, was also a baseball-playing jock.
I roll my shoulders. I don’t want to hand Beth the opportunity to rip me into pieces again. Not now. Not when everything has gone to shit. Not with Rachel in my life. “You need to go. ”
“I’ve tried calling you,” she says, ignoring me and the fact that Rachel stands completely broken not two feet away. “And texting. ”
She has. Since Thanksgiving, but I’m not ready to forgive her. “Leave. ”
