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I stretch my neck, rolling my head to try and get rid of the nasty thoughts. When I was a kid, I used to imagine that if I rolled my head around, the thoughts would come out through my ears.
If they did, they always found a way back.
If your parents didn’t want you…who will?
My ice-cold drink soothes the sting I feel on my tongue. I have this impression that my tongue is twice its actual size. Rachel didn’t cut deep, but I still have the taste of blood and Lik’s cum in my mouth.
I keep trying to think if I ever came so hard in my life. I don’t think I have. We reached levels of depravity I had never realized I needed and yet don’t think I’ll ever be able to get rid of.
So why did they all leave?
Am I the only one who felt it? The electric love between us? Something deeper than surface-level lust. I thought if Lik and Sam left, Rachel would stay. She always stays.
But she’s engaged now. And Lik and Sam are significant others.
Where do I fit in all that?
Nowhere. As usual.
No. One. Wants. You.
Not for longer than a good night of sex.
Why aren’t any of them looking for me?
‘All you are is the typical girl with abandonment issues.’ Sam’s words ring loudly in my head, forcing me to roll my neck again, stretching it and hoping for the thoughts to slip through my ears and into thin air. They were such valid words. I could barely keep myself together when he spat them at me.
I take a seat by the window of the Bakers’ café. My best friend Luke’s dad owns the chain, and soon my friend will be CEO. How crazy. Everyone has been going on with their lives while I was away. And there’s only one person who truly wants me.
I take another sip of my drink and check my phone. Nothing.
Fuck it, I’m calling her.
I won’t give Sam the pleasure of receiving a call from me. But Rachel doesn’t deserve my shitty mood and insecurities. What’s a call to check how she is?
It seems to ring forever, and when her voice finally reaches my ears, it’s low and raspy. Unusual for her.
“Hey,” she simply says.
“Sunshine, I want to see you.”
“I can’t today. I’m busy.”
The rejection stings, and jealousy for Conor McGill springs in my stomach. How can she stay engaged to this guy?
The problem that comes with rejection when it’s about the woman I love, is that it brings out a nasty side of me. Bitter, possessive,ugly. But mainly? Uncontrollable.
“Where are you?” I bite.
“Rose,” she huffs. “I’m busy. Let’s see each other tomorrow.”
“Busy choosing a cake for a fake wedding with a guy that couldn’t find your clit armed with a map and a torch light?”
“It’s got nothing to do with Conor. I have errands to run and—”
“The perfect little housewife,” I mock her. “Send me your location.”
“You’re not hearing me.”
