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I came hard in my jeans like I was a fucking teenager again, orgasm shuddering through my body. Pressing my hands to the wall on either side of Deacon’s head, I used the sturdy structure to steady myself. To catch my breath.
We both stood there not saying anything, panting, the world moving on around us and not caring who we were. What we’d done or the mess we’d made.
The problem was, I still did. I cared who we were, and that it wasn’t what we should be. That something was broken between Deacon and me, and that Brooke might as well be eons away instead of just on the other side of town.
I needed to make them both understand and I had no idea how to do that. Deacon didn’t protest as I pushed away and headed toward the stairs. Fine. Fuck him. I needed to clean up.
In the bathroom, I stripped out of my clothes on auto-pilot.
The shower was too hot, but I didn’t care. It washed away what was on the surface, and it seared my frustration into my soul.
I scrubbed too hard, drying myself off, and it didn’t matter.
On the drive to Brooke’s, my mind was a chaotic mess. The wheels on my car spun freely, looking for traction when I pulled into her driveway, and I skidded to a stop.
On her front porch, I hammered on the door with the side of my fist, until Brooke answered. Her arms were crossed, and she stared at her feet.
“Talk to me.” I tried to keep my voice even.
She shook her head. “I already said what I needed to.”
“No. This isn’t fair. It isn’tright.” I bit the word off rather than letting it bark out. “You owe me—”
“Nothing.” Brooke finally met my gaze. “I don’toweyou anything. I can’t see you anymore. That’s that.”
It wasn’t, because it couldn’t be. Was I the delusional one? No. She belonged with me. With us. “Brooke, please.”
“Go home. I don’t have anything else to say.” Her voice cracked. She swung the door shut again before I could say more.
No. No, no, no, no, no. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. I sank to the cold concrete of her porch, her door at my back, and dropped my head into my hands.
What was I doing wrong? Why didn’t she see it? Was I the asshole here?
None of this made sense.
I lost track of how long I sat there, but enough time passed that my ass went numb. Lights flashed in the driveway and a new car pulled up next to mine.
Sebastian climbed out and approached. I watched him blankly, not able to summon a thought. He stopped in front of me. “Go home. Or anywhere but here.”
“Why did she call you?”
Sebastian shrugged. “She’s mad at Deacon, too? I didn’t ask and whatever’s going on, you’re not making it better.”
Yeah, apparently Iwasthe asshole.
But I still didn’t know what I’d done wrong, or how to fix it.
TWENTY-NINE
DEACON
After the sex—thefucking? The mutual masturbation. I wasn’t sure it could be called anything else—I let Adam shower then walk out. It wasn’t like we were going to cuddle, and if he was hellbent on talking to Brooke, let him.
That didn’t mean I could get his words out of my head.
I tried.
I tried to shove them out with loud music and hard labor, cranking the stereo while I worked in the basement.
