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“Don’t forget me,” I finally sigh after it’s done. Even though I promised myself the words would never come out of my mouth.
“Never,” he promises.
And I believe him enough to fall asleep, content in the knowledge that at least part of me will be able to live on after this is done.
Chapter 8
Then
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Carter
Tracy Hollis has her cleavage tediously rubbing up against my chest, her futile effort of grabbing my attention, when I feel those hazel gold eyes that haunt my dreams scorching my skin. I don’t acknowledge them, nor do I go in search of those dark amber jewels like I desperately want to, but instead, I keep pretending Tracy’s pathetic cajoling in my ear is something that appeals to me.
It’s not.
But some sick part of me doesn’t want Valentina to know how Tracy’s words bore me to death. I release a cocky smirk when I feel Val’s furious stare begin to throw daggers in my direction, prickling my skin with her anger and jealousy. Tracy mistakes my slanted grin for interest and begins to trace her manicured nails up and down my chest flirtatiously. I’m about to put Tracy in her place, but stop when a pissed off Valentina rushes like a bull in a china store towards my locker. Apparently, Tracy touching me is Valentina’s breaking point.
“Carter, can I talk to you for a minute?” I hear her order from behind the peroxide blonde in front of me.
“Can’t. I’m busy.”
I hear Valentina huff out, disgruntled, and my disappointment is immediate as I watch my love turn her back on us, walking away in anger instead of standing her ground and telling Tracy—or any other girl, for that matter— to keep her hands off me.
Unfortunately, Tracy takes my snub on Val as permission to trail her fingers down south on my body, bile instantly rushing up my throat. I wrap my hand over her wrist and tighten my hold.
“That’s not for you.” I grit my teeth.
“Oh, Car. Don’t be that way,” she coos in my ear, trying to grab my dick for a second time.
I push her away from me and slam my locker door right next to her face. Tracy’s face turns ashen and petrified at my sudden change in mood. I don’t even give her an explanation as to why her touch repulses me, when just a few seconds ago, I didn’t seem one bit bothered by it. But that was when Valentina was watching. Now that she’s not, I couldn’t give two shits about her or anyone else.
“Carter, where are you going?!” she yells after me when I start walking away from her.
“Away from you,” I mumble under my breath, already pushing open the door to my escape.
I have to get out of here before I do any more damage.
I don’t know why I went out of my way to hurt Valentina.
Liar.
I know exactly why I did it, even if I don’t want to admit it to myself.
Everyone in school thinks Valentina is dating Quaid now, just because my best friend took her to some stupid school dance last week. The rumors circling around school about how they are now an item fucking irk me to no end. I want to tell them she’s not his girl, she’s fucking mine, but somehow, I can’t bring myself to do it. Maybe because deep down inside me, I know I’d be lying to them, just as much as I’ve been lying to myself all these years.
So instead, I let everyone believe I’m a free agent. Ready and willing to have any thirsty chick suck me off. It was spiteful and vengeful, but I still did it.
Unable to stay in school after what just happened, I get on my bike and ride around town, trying to get my head in check. Hours pass, and still, the only image I have in my head is of Valentina in Quaid’s arms, dancing the night away like they belong together, leaving no room for anyone else.
When I finally call defeat, unable to settle my tempestuous mood, I go home, only to find Gran in her usual spot, in front of the TV watching her daytime soaps.
“Carter is everything alright?” she asks, concerned.
“Everything is fine, Gran.”
“Are you sure? You’re home from school pretty early,” she adds, pointing to the grandfather clock in the room that shows school is still in session.
