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Heat crawls up the back of my neck, and I can’t decide if I want to puke or punch him in the face just for the hell of it. I want to believe I didn’t hear him correctly, but I know I did. He looks so fucking proud of himself, and he genuinely believes that he’s her first, even though she looked me dead in the eyes and told me she’s never been with him.
I feel like I’m about to fucking rage, but I try to keep it together.
“Sorry.” I scrape a hand over my face, wishing I could wipe away my shame. “I just assumed. You’ve never been serious with anyone else.”
“I’m serious about her,” he says. “I told you that. She’s fucking crazy, but I love her. She plays these head games, and half the time, I think she just likes to fight so we can make up. She’s wild in the sack. Jesus, she does this thing with her mouth—”
“I don’t want to know.” I turn and grab my shirt because I can’t let him see my face. If he did, he’d know I’m about two seconds away from shutting his mouth permanently, and that isn’t fair to him.
Bianca’s the one who played me. She’s been playing me all along. This is some sort of sick game to her, and Adam has no idea.
“Don’t be a prude.” Adam snorts. “You’re my brother. If I can’t tell you this shit, then who can I tell?”
“Nobody,” I mutter. “People don’t need to know about your sex life.”
“What, are you jealous?” he teases. “If you put in a little effort and stopped acting like a moody bitch all the time, you’d have chicks crawling all over your dick. Why don’t you give Tori a call and see if she wants to come back for a visit since you were so torn up over her leaving.”
“Seriously?” I turn to glare at him. “What happened to not going there because of bro code or that she’s a psycho and I need to stay away?”
“I’m just fucking with you.” He laughs. “Jesus, you need to lighten up. You take life way too seriously.”
It’s tempting to tell him that’s because I don’t have the luxury of being Adam Nichols. But then I realize I do sound like a jealous prick.
Adam’s phone chimes, and he glances at the screen. When he opens the message, the color drains from his face.
“Holy fuck,” he murmurs.
“What?”
He shoots up off the couch and shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later. I need to get to Bianca’s.”
He slams the door behind him and darts down the stairs, leaving me in the middle of the room, confused and fucked up. Not a second later, Bianca bursts from the closet.
“Madden.” She comes to stand before me, clinging to my shirt as she looks up at me with her lying fucking eyes. “That stuff he said isn’t true. I swear it—”
I pry her hands off me and take a step back. “Just stop, Bianca. Enough, already. Do you even hear yourself?”
“Please.” Her lip quivers. “You have to believe me.”
“Believe you?” I shake my head in disgust. “All you’ve done is lie to me. And now you want to throw Adam under the bus, and for what? Give me one logical fucking reason he’d have to lie about that?”
She hesitates, and I know she can’t. Even she must realize she’s been caught in her own web. Adam has always gotten more pussy than a toilet seat, and he’s never pretended otherwise. He could have ten different girls here at any given moment with a simple text. And the more I think about it, the more I realize how ridiculous it was that I ever bought into Bianca’s bullshit. Adam wouldn’t be with her unless he was getting some. That’s what it boils down to, and I was a fucking idiot to think otherwise.
“Madden, I—” Bianca’s words are cut short when her phone rings. She checks the screen and frowns.
“Just fucking take it,” I tell her. “There’s nothing left to say here.”
I head to my dresser to grab some clothes, and Bianca answers. I’m hoping she’ll leave, but instead, there’s a quiet gasp before the phone slips from her hand and smashes against the floor.
“Bianca?” I turn to find her shaking, nearly on the verge of collapse as she releases a painful sob.
“It’s Ada,” she chokes out. “She’s… dead.”
Chapter 37
Madden
I’m in the middle of pouring a cup of coffee when Bianca walks into the kitchen. Her cheek is bruised from her fight with Destiny last night, and she looks hungover as hell. She grabs a coffee cup from the cupboard and makes herself at home in my space, and for reasons I can’t explain, she has my full attention. She’s barefoot with a silky pink robe draped over her body and loosely tied around her waist. I’m having trouble looking away from her even though I know this needs to stop. Last night, we crossed the line. I told myself I wouldn’t touch her again, but I did it anyway. If Adam were here, he’d rip my fucking guts out, and I’d deserve no less.
