Page 66 of Whispered Promises

Me? I guess I can be the fun, best friend.

Great.

Shaking off the lingering melancholy, I turn back to the TV screen, giving it my focus. I did the right thing, for me and for us.

The thoughts feel sour.

I can’t even lie to myself.

Nate

It’s taking all of my willpower to not reach over and strangle the little shit. How can he be so fucking blind to Rosy?

He hurt her.

It surprises me how much I’m pissed off at him about it. Fuck, we all have our demons and hang ups. But watching her run out upset like that? I don’t know how to deal with the pain that lanced through my gut at the sight.

I’m struggling to remind myself that he wouldn’t intentionally hurt her, and that his current unbothered attitude is all for show… Inside he’s hurting.

Right?

Best be fucking hurting, or I’ll punch something to make him feel the pain. Can’t be that much of a dick that he doesn’t feel bad or did it all just to protect himself.

I know he cares, and I’m holding on to that thought so hard, so I don’t throw myself at him and pummel some sense into him.

Rosy won’t like that.

I’m doing this for her.

But while I wait for Noah to check in on her, I can still imagine all the ways I want to hurt him.

“I can feel your rage from here. Quit it. I’m not in the mood,” Max huffs, still flicking through film options. What he says registers, and concern starts seeping in over the anger. Max is always in the mood for anything and everything.

“Want to talk?” I grit out, trying to channel my inner Noah and be supportive or some shit. Even though I don’t want to and would rather be with Rosy right now. But Noah’s the better option to comfort her. He has pretty words. I’m not sure what I have that can help her.

She seems to like my hugs. Maybe she would appreciate me punching him, payback for how he’s hurt her. I could do that, maybe get him to crawl on his knees and apologise to her.

“No,” he sulks, his stubborn attitude not helping the inferno inside me. Trying to be nice is infuriating.

“Why?” Crossing my arms across my chest, I lean back and wait for his response. The move might come across as casual, but keeping my fists tightly tucked away is for his sake, not mine. Annoying brat.

“Because it hurts, okay? You saw what happened before. Shit, you were there to pick up all my broken, pathetic pieces,” he spits out, interrupting my silent rant. The bitterness in his tone is surprising.

Who knew Tigger could be salty?

“You can’t avoid things in life because of previous shit. If you think Becka and Rosy are alike, you’re more stupid than I thought. Rosy’s heart is too big to hurt you, or anyone, like that. If you don’t have any interest in her, that’s fine. One less person for me to share her with. But if you’re pushing her away because you’re scared, then that’s a bullshit excuse to hurt her.”

He narrows his eyes. “Do you always have to be a dick? Why can’t you just cuddle me or some shit? Pretend I’m her and make me feel better.”

“You want me to do to you what I’d do to her?” I smirk, a sly smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“Fuck no. I take that back. You dirty fucker.” He chuckles, and some of my tension eases. I don’t actually want him hurting or whatever bullshit he’s feeling.

TWENTY-SEVEN

NOAH

Holding the box of muffins in one hand, I rap against her door with the other, hoping Rosy will answer.