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His twin brother never bothered long enough to stop and talk to Cillian, to really listen to him, because he was too absorbed in his own life, forgetting about the boy that held so much love in his heart that it destroyed him slowly over the years.
“Yeah,” I grunted, trying to calm myself down. I crossed my legs at the ankles, trying to cover the boner that was slowly stirring to life in my pants. “But while you were having a sexfest yesterday, Tristan made another move on the west side of the city.” I couldn’t contain the resentment in my voice, couldn’t even try to do it.
It was irrational feeling like this, as if he needed to give me any explanation as to why he fucked a hot and willing woman, but goddammit, it didn’t hurt any less telling myself that he wasn’t mine. He never was, might as well never be, but I still looked at him as if he belonged to me.
Because I knew I belonged to him.
“Careful, Chris,” he said evenly, leaning down and placing his elbows on his knees. “You almost sound jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” I bit back, standing up and starting to pace from one side of the room to the other, avoiding his eyes. “I’m just saying that there are more important things happening around us, and you don’t have time to get lost in a pussy that you don’t even care about.”
Did I go too far? Yeah, I absolutely fucking did, and I hated myself so much more when a small gasp erupted around us. I turned, seeing Evelyn standing on top of the stairs leading from the hallway where the rooms were. Her green eyes blazed with fire, and I knew she would rip me a new one even without knowing her all too well.
I ran a background check on her, seeing that she grew up in Croyford Bay, just like Cillian and I did, but it was obvious we didn’t know each other. She didn’t go to our high school, didn’t run in the same circles as we did, and the fact that she ended up in an abusive relationship made me hate myself so much more for what I said.
“This pussy,” she all but growled, coming down the stairs, and slowly walking toward me. “Has a fucking name, you dimwit fuck.”
Cillian’s eyes volleyed between her and me as he stood up, appearing as a small separation between the two of us.
“And this 'pussy' as you so eloquently called me, will fuck up your face so badly that you won’t want to ever look at yourself, pretty boy.” Her words were made to hurt, dripping poison all over the floor, and if this was a different situation, I would admire her.
Hell, I already admire her, but I couldn’t stop the green monster sitting on my heart from spewing hurtful words.
“You’re a distraction,” I blasted at her, completely ignoring the pleading looks Cillian kept on throwing my way. “A girl that was supposed to be dead by now, and I’m not going to mince my words just because you can’t take them, little girl.” There, I told her. I really, really told her.
Then why doesn’t it feel good?
But if I thought that my words would hurt her, I was so fucking wrong. If anything, my words spurred her on further, and before I could even blink, she was in front of me, taking the small knife I'd left on the plate, pressing it in my hand.
“Come on then,” she spat at me, looking up at my eyes with so much hatred. “Kill me.” She wrapped her hand around my much bigger one, lifting the knife to her throat and pressing the tip to her pale skin. Her full, plump lips turned at the corners, the wicked smile mocking me for what I couldn’t do.
For whatever reason, the moment she pressed her body to mine, my entire system went into overdrive, needing to hurt her but also needing to cherish her, to save her, to erase what her ex did to her. The photos I saw, the statements she gave, it fucking haunted me from the moment my eyes saw them, and I couldn’t stop the trembling in my arm as she held the knife to her skin, telling me to hurt her.
It wasn’t her fault I was in love with my best friend. It wasn’t her fault that I wanted to be there with them. It wasn’t her fucking fault that my dick wanted inside her panties, or that she wore Cillian’s shirt, the scent of both of them swirling through my system, making me dizzy with need.
“Chris,” Cillian warned somewhere from the side, but I couldn’t move myself from her. I could’ve, I really, really could have, but I didn’t want to step back. I didn’t want to lose this connection.
Her fire fed my own, pouring salt on an open wound, and I wanted her all. Her pain, her moans, her desires… Everything she wanted to give, I needed it, just like I needed Cillian.
This was different from what I felt for him. This carnal urge to bend her over the couch and fuck her while he watched, while he told me how fast and hard she liked it, while she sucked his dick, choking on it, moaning our names.
“Come on, Chris.” She grinned, licking her lips. “Do it. You want me gone? This is your chance.”
Her words held a meaning that only the two of us could understand, and as I truly looked down at her, she wrapped her hand around my neck, pulling me closer to her until her lips rested next to my ear, where Kill couldn’t see.
“It’s okay to be jealous, pretty boy,” she chuckled. “I would want to keep him to myself, too.”
As if a bucket of cold water washed over me, I detached myself from her, stumbling as the knife fell from my hand, clattering on the floor, breaking through the haze of desire I'd started feeling.
She knew.
She fucking knew.
I looked at her, dragging my eyes over her small frame, over the defiant look in her eyes, and what I saw there almost brought me to my knees. It wasn’t hatred that shone in her eyes. It wasn’t even jealousy I was so familiar with.
Her pupils were dilated, lips parted, and the soft flush on her cheeks almost had me crawling toward her, begging her to put me out of my misery. I couldn’t understand what was happening. I couldn’t understand why I was reacting like this, when I never had these kinds of feelings toward another person.
I loved Cillian with all my heart, but this girl… Fuck. She made me want to do things I'd never thought of doing before.
