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I’d like to think I’m made of stronger stuff, and that I’d make him work for it. Truthfully, my heart is so raw, still bleeding from the torment of this last week, that I might just fall into his arms.
We finally reach their booth, and I shake my head, clearing away those silly thoughts.
“Hey, how have you been?” Oakley asks me as I slide into the seat next to her.
“Pretty good. Busy with classes.”
She nods, grinning at me as Kai pulls her closer to his side. I chance a glance across the table to Remy, who is staring at the beer bottle in front of him.
My stomach sinks.
Guess that jealous look was just my imagination or a trick of the lights. I knew better than to get my hopes up. How many times can this man trample my heart? He refuses to look at me, and his body language is tense and closed off. Boy, when I’m wrong about someone, I’mreallyfucking wrong about them.
“How have you been?” I ask Oakley, hoping to distract myself. I try to pay attention as she tells me all about the new changes she’s implementing at the farm.
“That sounds cool,” I say, forcing a smile to my lips. I feel like a bad friend, only half listening to her, but luckily, she’s bubbly and excited and doesn’t seem to notice.
“It is! And I think that it’s really going to pay off.”
Kai and Oakley keep chatting, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I look over at Remy. The big, stubborn, stupidly sexy, tragically closed-off beast. He’s staring off into the distance, clearly wishing he were anywhere in the world but here with me.
Was it really only a week ago that his lips were fused to mine? His hands soothing over my curves while his thick dick slid in and out of me, stretching me in the most delicious way? How can two people share such intimacy, such passion, and now… nothing?
I’d say it hurts, but I don’t know if I can feel anything anymore. It’s time to let this silly, excruciating crush go. Remy can’t even look at me, which is worse than if he tried to make awkward conversation. It’s like I’m invisible, like I mean nothing to him. I can’t take this for one more second. I’m crawling out of my skin, the need to hide away from the world stealing the air from my lungs.
Standing abruptly, I look around the table at everyone except Remy. “Need to run to the restroom,” I blurt out before spinning around and pushing my way through the crowd toward the bathroom.
I knew that coming out tonight was going to be a mistake.
EIGHT
Remington
I watch Gwen go,my whole body yearning to go after her, but what am I going to do? Wait for her outside the ladies restroom? I’m not sure that will look great for me.
Wiping a hand down my face, I try talking some sense into my thick skull. She doesn’t want me. She doesn’t need me. I’m doing her a favor by making the choice easy. Gwen might hate me now, but I’m saving her from a bigger heartbreak down the road.
Aren’t I?
Honestly, I don’t know anymore. Gwen is always breathtaking with her golden hair and forest green eyes, but tonight, her light was gone. She was beautiful, of course, but bone-tired. Did I do that to her? Jesus, am I making a huge mistake?
“Are you just going to let her go?” Wyatt asks. I turn to look at him.
“She’s just running to the bathroom,” I remind him. My brother rolls his eyes.
“You’re letting her get away,” he informs me, making me frown.
“She’ll be right back,” I mumble, though I’m starting to have my doubts.
She seemed so… sad when she was leaving. Not just sad. Broken in a way that tears my fucking heart in two.
Things were awkward as soon as the girls joined our table, and I had been trying to think of something to say while also constantly reminding myself not to stare at her like a lovesick fool.
So instead, I ended up staring off into the distance like an idiot, probably making things that much worse between us. But what the hell am I supposed to say?I’ve been in love with you all summer, and I know there’s never going to be another woman for me, but our love story is going to end tragically, so I’m saving us both future heartache?
“Go talk to her,” Wyatt says, elbowing me in the ribs hard enough to make me grunt.
It’s like a spur in my side, and I curse under my breath as I scoot out of the booth and make my way toward the bathrooms.
