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Those words come flying out of my mouth, and I watch as they hit him like an assault. If I had pulled out a gun and shot him in the chest, it would have hurt less. Instantly, I regret it and wish I could unsay what I just said.
His mouth falls into a straight line and I know I’ve struck too hard. Shame and guilt crawl up my throat, nearly making me sick. I’m about to apologize when I notice Adam’s gaze scan to something over my shoulder.
The sound of shoes jogging against pavement steals my attention, and when I turn to see Brett running toward me, my emotions get all jumbled up inside. Anger, desire, guilt, fear, comfort—they run together, feeling all wrong, the way different colors blend to make an ugly brown sludge.
“What’s going on?” Brett calls from behind me, and I turn back to see Adam’s face, looking for something I can’t quite put my finger on. He freezes in his spot, a grimace etched in his features.
“Nothing. We’re fine,” I reply, taking a step back toward the car.
And then Brett touches my lower back and long-forgotten feelings come floating to the surface. I know his touch. It’s familiar and comforting and safe.
“Why the fuck are you yelling at her?” Brett asks, putting a hand out toward Adam, treating him like a threat.
“He’s not—”
“I don’t know,” Adam replies, looking at me. “All I know is my life was fine until one morning when I walked into that fucking diner. Now…”
Tears sting my eyes as I glare at him. “Now what?”
“Now I don’t know anymore. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I want.”
As I blink, a tear slips across my cheek. This feels as close as I’m going to get to a confession from Adam. He’ll never be able to truly express himself, and I’m clearly wasting my time if I expect him to ever admit anything more.
“Let me take you home,” Brett says, running a hand along my other arm. A moment ago, I wouldn’t have dreamed of ending this night with my ex, but that’s how easily a beautiful moment with Adam turned to shit. What on earth was I expecting?
“Fine,” I mutter, turning away from Adam.
“Sage,” he calls after me, but I don’t turn back.
It’s clear I mean nothing to Adam Goode. So I’ll try to pretend he means nothing to me.
Twenty-Nine
Sage
Old habits die hard. I can’t exactly explain why I’m letting Brett hold me, allowing him to run his hands down my back and press his lips to my cheek, but I’m letting him anyway. I’m convincing myself that it feels nice. That I need this. That this is where I’m meant to be.
Maybe I’m no better than Adam, unable to let go of the past, trudging through bad choices over and over again, doomed to relive the same misery again and again, but we just never learn and refuse to change.
Like how I pressured him to open up to me, so desperate for his love and attention, that’s what I’ve been doing since I was a kid. Giving people the chance to love me and blaming them when they don’t. Just setting myself up for disappointment again and again.
After Adam got in his car and drove away, I came back inside the club with Brett. We went to the office, where we always used to hang out. I’m sitting on the desk with him between my legs like we used to.
But I can’t stop thinking about Adam. How I put all of my feelings on the line for him and he threw them away. How I’ve started growing attached to a man who will never allow himself to feel the same for me.
I feel like the world’s biggest fool.
I’m lost in my own head as Brett pulls my face toward his and stares into my eyes just before leaning in to kiss me. With a flinch, I pull away.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re still my girl, Sage. You always were.”
I pull farther away, pushing a hand to his chest to get some distance. “I need some space right now.”
“Space from me?” he asks, looking wounded.
My brows pinch together in confusion. “We broke up, Brett. I…started seeing someone else. Why aren’t you mad? Didn’t you see what we just did?”
