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Sneak Peek at Revenge
Chapter 1
Truth: Coffee is proof God loves us and wants us to be happy.
“I won’t take second place to someone who will have your heart for all eternity. I can’t compete with a ghost.” My ultimatum hangs in the air, as thick as the scent of roasted beans which surrounds us.
The expression on Kieran’s face almost matches the surprise I felt when he asked me to meet him here this afternoon. We don’t typically do dates. Or anything in public, really.
After a few seconds of strained silence, he nods slowly but holds my gaze. “You’re being weirdly calm…for you. I didn’t expect this to go over so well.”
In spite of his usual cold demeanor, he’s undoubtedly attractive. Hair so dark brown it’s nearly black, eyes to match. I’ve never seen it firsthand, but the way his cheeks dip ever so slightly leads me to believe if he ever did use his mouth for something other than frowning, he’d have dimples. As a member of Wellbridge University’s lacrosse team, he’s well-built without being bulky, and a respected guy on campus. The fact that he’s one of the youngest brothers of Phi Kappa Rho to hold an officer’s position is proof of that. He’s smart, classy…aloof.
I glance around the nearly empty coffee shop to buy myself some time before responding. The warm brown walls, intimate seating areas with comfortable if not well-worn couches and chairs, and the familiar scent of pastries and coffee calm me a little. It helps there aren’t too many witnesses to watch my embarrassment. When classes start next week, The Beanery will be packed from open to close since it’s one of the most popular spots on campus that doesn’t involve alcohol. Just as my nerves stop firing on all cylinders, I catch the eye of a girl who looks vaguely familiar. It would seem at least one person has seen, if not heard, my ordeal. She actually gives me a sad smile like I’ve just been inducted into a sorority I never intended to pledge.
Lonely hearts club, table for two, please.
By the way she keeps glancing at the barista, I’m guessing she wants to buy me a few shots of espresso, so we can drown our sorrows together.
Suddenly, Kieran’s previous statement hits me in the chest. The only reason he did this in public was so there would be witnesses. He knows damn well I wouldn’t act in a manner which would disgrace my actual sorority in public.
A simmering fury beneath the surface of my skin competes with the sip of steaming latte I take in an attempt to keep a cool exterior comparable to his. “How did you expect me to take it?”
“Honestly?”
“Honesty would be a nice change of pace.” Not that Kieran’s ever lied to me, per se. It’s simply that we’ve mostly communicated with our bodies rather than with words.
“I thought you’d cry, feel bad for me, then convince yourself you could eventually take her place.” He doesn’t deliver the words with a malicious tone. His eyes remain clear without a hint of mockery.
Oh my God, he’s serious.
“I do have sympathy for you. Please don’t think my response implies my heart doesn’t hurt for yours.” I chew on my lip, debating how much honesty is the best policy in this instance. “Maybe I’m not fighting this because, deep down, I never saw any future for us.”
That’s not entirely true. In the beginning, I absolutely had those fantasies about eventual engagement, marriage, babies, and the whole white-picket-fence scenario. Over time, that daydream lost its luster when our relationship failed to progress past anything more than sex. Not that I’m going to admit that to him in light of his revelation.
“I never led you on,” Kieran defends himself. “I never promised anything I wasn’t willing to give.”
“I know.” His words don’t sting as they might have if he’d been upfront with me years ago. Though I’m accepting this much easier than I would have before, something still niggles the back of my brain. “Why are you telling me any of this now? We haven’t spoken to each other all summer. Why not let whatever we,” I fling my finger between us, “had follow a more natural course of simply evaporating?”
The smug hint of a smile spread across his kissable lips only makes me slightly annoyed. “It’s your senior year. If you still want to keep this strictly physical, then I’m obviously okay with that. But, I didn’t want you to cling to any misplaced hope I’d be faithful to you after you leave campus. If you think you’re finally ready to make a clean break from me, then you have the rest of this year to explore your…options.”
A lovely black and white movie plays in my head. Me standing, enraged at his suggestion. Throwing my cup of piping hot coffee in his face. The few patrons in the shop gasping in surprise, then erupting into applause when I expose the guy trying in vain to blot his white polo as the heartless excuse for a man he is. And me and my new friend in solidarity riding off into the singlehood sunset.
“Explain something to me, Kieran.”
He takes a drink from his own mug, his Adam’s apple bobbing with his swallow. As is more usual, his demeanor shows no lingering trace of humor. “I think I’ve done enough explaining for one day. Can’t you be grateful I’ve given you this much?”
Strangely, a part of me is thankful for our discussion today. Though we’ve been sleeping together for the past two years, I know virtually nothing about the man seated across from me. He’s a junior, majoring in business. He pledged Phi Kappa his freshman year. His preference for sex is vanilla, with only slight variations on the missionary position. Sometimes, he likes me on top when he’s so drunk he can barely get it up.
That’s it. That’s all I know.
Until today. I’m not sure why his disclosure now bothers me more than his lack of previous engagement.
“If you love her so much, then why have sex with anyone else at all? Doesn’t physical intimacy feel as much like cheating as an emotional relationship would?”
His gaze darts to a point over my shoulder as he shifts in his seat. The obvious display of discomfort rattles me further.
“I’m sorry. I’m not judging,” I backtrack. “I genuinely want to understand. I can’t imagine loving someone who’s gone as much as you still do. It’s admirable, don’t get me wrong. But, I simply can’t put myself in your shoes. I wouldn’t be able to do what…we’ve been doing.”
