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“Since I left?”
“I’m sorry, Pen. I didn’t think.”
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m glad it’s better at home now.”
“Sooooo, any hotties there you want to tell me about? I mean all those sexy dancers and all,” she asks, changing the subject. I hear her friends giggling in the background. Teenagers. You’ve got to love them.
“No! And even if there were, I wouldn’t be discussing them with you.” I can practically see the roll of her eyes as she huffs down the phone.
“You’re no fun.”
“I’m not talking about my love life with my little sister. It’s not happening.”
“What love life, Pen? You’ve not been on a date with anyone since the Breakers left.”
“That’s not true…”
“Urgh, you’re such a bad liar. You’re still so hung up on them. You should move on, it’s not healthy.”
“Ihavemoved on, just like the Breakers did. So, you know, it is what it is.”
“Tell me you at least slept with one ofthem…”
I hear more giggling and roll my eyes. “Goodnight, Lena. Say hello to Laura and Simone for me and make sure you go to bed soon, okay? Bye!”
“Pen…!”
I end the call, not willing to continue a conversation with my baby sister about my love life or lack thereof at three am in the sodding morning. Neither am I willing to go there regarding the Breakers, or the fact that I lost my virginity to a wannabe, arsehole gangster who was about as good in bed as he was at dancing. Shit, basically. It was six months after the Breakers left and I was low. I thought sex would help. It didn’t. It didn’t help the poor guy either. Jeb saw to it that he didn’t fuck another girl again for quite some time. Ten broken bones tend to curb a person’s ability to fuck and I’ve lived with the guilt ever since.
Puffing out my cheeks, I flick off the bathroom light and pad towards my bed, more than ready to collapse and sleep for twenty-four hours. It’s pitch black thanks to my blackout curtains, so I have to hold my hands out in front of me and try not to walk into anything. When I feel the rug beneath my feet, I know my bed’s just to my left. Scooting around the edge I sit down, feeling beyond exhausted. It’s been a long arse day. A long week, in fact. Yawning, I curl up on my side and close my eyes, only for them to snap open half a second later.
“What the fuck?!” I screech, launching upwards and blindly reaching for the wall.
My hand eventually slams on the light switch, flooding the room in stark white light. Blinking through the dark spots, I turn on my intruder, my body shaking with adrenaline. Lying on my bed topless and barefoot, wearing just a pair of sweatpants, is York.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
“Get the hell out of my room!” I scream, my eyes snapping up from the tattoo of an old oak tree climbing up his pale chiselled abs and pecs, its roots reaching below the waistband of his sweatpants.
“Hey, Pen,” he responds with a raised eyebrow. His icy-blue eyes glinting with challenge.
“GET OUT!”
He smirks, rising slowly into a sitting position against the wall, his legs stretched out acrossmy fucking bed. “Sounds like little Lena’s grown-up into someone just as feisty as you.”
“Keep her the fuck out of this and get the hell out of my room!” I repeat, not giving a shit that I’m screaming loud enough to wake up the whole damn floor. In fact, Iwanteveryone to wake up. Maybe someone will come save me from this new level of hell.
“I wouldn’t bother, Pen. They’re either all out cold from booze, or otherwiseengaged… just like Zayn and Tiffany.”
“They’re sleeping together?” I screech, forgetting that I don’t care. Forgetting that I have no right to feel angry or betrayed or hurt anymore. Doesn’t make it any easier to swallow though.
York cocks his head to the side, his white-blonde hair falling over his face. He swipes it away and I can’t help but notice the prominent veins in his hand and forearms and the tree branches winding down his upper arms. I swallow hard, forcing myself to look away and concentrate my attention on the middle of his forehead instead. A nice,safe, area to stare at.
“Would it bother you if theywerefucking?” he asks.
I want to scream, yes, yes it would, but of course I don’t because, frankly, I don’t want to acknowledge those feelings, especially not in front of him. “I don’t give a shit. You need to leave. Now.”
York smirks, then raises his thumb to his mouth, running the pad over his bottom lip. “You forget,Pen, I can read you like a fucking book. So, do you want to tell me why you looked like you’d seen a ghost after your little chat with Jeb tonight? I thought you were tight?”
