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“No,” he says, shaking his head, emphasizing the word. “I will not fucking die on you. Do you understand me? You’ll have to go first because there’s no fucking way I’m leaving you alone in this world.” My throat tightens, but I force myself to breathe through the growing emotions. “Two. I won’t get fucking arrested, Kens. Come on. And three,” he holds three fingers up, “I have no interest being inside anyone but you. No other woman will ever compare to you. I have no need to fuck anyone else, to want anyone else, if I have you.”
I take a shaky breath. “You said you were mine from the moment you saw me,” I say quietly, my eyes flicking between his, searching for an answer I’m terrified of. “Have you slept with anyone since that day?” He’s silent, his expression turning guilty, and I let out a humorless laugh. “See? They’re all just words, Ez. You can say whatever you want, but they don’t mean shit.”
“You told me to fuck off,” he says, his voice rising. “You can’t hold my past against me.”
“Like you do to me?” I counter. “You bring Archer up every chance you get, and that was years ago. Not weeks ago. Or has it only been days? When was the last time you fucked someone else? This morning?”
“I’m not doing this,” he says, shaking his head. “We’re not fucking doing this.” I round the bar, my eyes on his.
“No, tell me,” I push. “Tell me when the last time was that you fucked someone.” I step up to him, my chest brushing against his. My head is tipped almost all the way back, but I still feel like I’m glaring down at him. “Want to know my last time? Three years ago with Archer. That was the last time. When was yours?”
“A few weeks ago,” he admits through gritted teeth. “It—she didn’t mean anything. She’s with someone else now, anyway.” I let out a humorless laugh.
“So if she was single, you’d still be fucking her?” I fold my arms over my chest.
“We were fucking stressed!” he shouts, and I flinch. “We were on lockdown and there was nothing else to fucking do. It was something to make us forget this shit for a while. It didn’t mean anything. I don’t give a fuck about her! I don’t—”
“Who was it?” I say in a low voice, interrupting him. If she was on lockdown with him, she’s close to the club, close to him. His mouth hangs open, and I see the thoughts whirling in his head. He realizes he fucked up and is trying to figure a way out of this. “Who, Kiwi?” He winces like I physically hit him.
“Heather,” he finally says, and it’s like a blow to the fucking gut. “We fucked a few times. I hooked up with her and Reid before they were together. That was the last time I slept with anyone.” My heart feels like it’s about to crack. “But it meant nothing.” I shake my head as he speaks.
“You have been judging me for fucking days,” I hiss as I press my finger into the center of his chest. “You’ve gone on and on about Archer, about how upset you are that we slept together. But that was one time. We were together one fucking time. Not afewtimes.” I spit the words at him, disgusted. “I never had a threesome with him and someone else. You’ve made me feel bad about my past, even though you did the same shit. You did worse! Heather, Kiwi? Really?”
“She was there,” he says quietly, unapologetically. “That’s it.”
“I gave you my heart and soul the moment I saw you,” I snarl, throwing his words back at him. “That was just bullshit. A pretty line to get me in bed.”
“No!” His voice booms around the room as he slams his fist onto the bar, his chest heaving as he breathes through his teeth. I keep my spine stiff even though I want to cower away from him, from his outburst. “That’s not fucking it!” He hits the bar again, harder, and I take a large step back. “What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing,” I murmur. “There’s nothing you can say.” Tears burn my eyes as I watch him whirl and punch the closest wall. His body is vibrating. He’s seconds away from exploding. “Get out, Kiwi. Just…leave.”
His broad shoulders rise and fall with each ragged breath. He keeps his back to me as he tries to calm down.
“Is this how it’ll always be?” he finally says, his voice raw. “You’ll always find something wrong? Something to fight with me over? Some way to push me away?” He turns toward me, and every bit of warmth he ever had in his eyes is gone. His face is distant. Cold. “You’ll never make me happy. You’ll never give, just a little fucking bit, so I can be happy. So I can have you. Have Ian. Have a fucking family? You’ll always push, and push, and fuckingpush, until you finally get your wish and I leave? I’m only a man, Kens. I can only take so much. And this back and forth,” he shakes his head, “I can’t do it. I won’t do it. I’ll fight to be with you tooth and nail every day for the rest of my life, but I’ll only do it if I know you’ll fight for me too. I won’t put this effort into someone who doesn’t want me. Who is disgusted by me. Who hates me.”
“I don’t hate you,” I say, my chin wobbling.
“Could’ve fooled me.” We stare at each other, each waiting for the other to say something, anything, to fix it. It’s like that day in the bathroom all over again, but this time…this time I know it’s permanent. Whatever it is, it’s severed and gone.
Forever.
I remind myself that it’s fine. That it’s better this way. That everything this man is and represents is something I don’t want. It’s something I’ve never wanted. I remind myself that his dick is barely dry from where he’d had it buried in Heather only a few weeks ago. I remind myself that no matter what he says, he’ll eventually stop following through on his words, like everyone else.
And I remind myself that if I’m too much work for him, too difficult, then he’s not the man for me.
So I take a step back, my arms wrapped tightly around myself as I tilt my chin up.
“Goodbye, Kiwi,” I say.
He stares back at me, his face giving nothing away.
“Goodbye, Kennedy.”
Kennedy
It’s too fucking late—or is it too early? It’s nearly five in the morning and I’m just getting home from the bar. I want to curl up and die, but I have to be at the café at seven.
I slide my jacket off as I head toward the kitchen, ready to stuff my face with something, then take a power nap before work. Opening the fridge, I find it still mostly empty, but at least Ian was nice enough to leave me a slice of pizza.
