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“No. I’m mad at you because you did exactly what I hoped you wouldn’t.”
“You blindsided me with the break shit, Cassia. I thought things were fine between us.”
“Because we’d barely seen each other in months?”
“You were busy! You wanted me hanging around, distracting you when you were studying for finals and preparing to take the GRE and saying how exhausted you were? If you wanted to spend more time together, you should have said so!”
“I’m sick of being the one making an effort, Holden. I’m not going tobegyou to make me a priority.”
It’s the second time she’s said that. Told me that she’s not a priority.
And I’m taken aback it’s a thought that’s even crossed her mind. I know that I’m selfish. I always have been. If there’s something I don’t want to do, I won’t do it. There’s a very short list of people whose feelings I care about hurting. If she wasn’t apriorityto me, we wouldn’t be in a relationship to take a break from.
Another flaw of mine is that I’m not great at expressing how I feel. I prefer to show my feelings, but nothing in Cassia’s tense posture suggests that she’s open to physical affection right now.
So I offer her the same answer I did earlier. “You are a priority. You’re making it sound like we hardly ever saw each other. We never went, what? More than a few nights?”
“Showing up for sex and then leaving to lift weights with the guys early the next morning is not prioritizing me.”
“I’m the captain of the team, Cassia. I can’t just not show up. And you were pushing me toward your bed, eager to get off those nights, not asking to talk.”
She scoffs. “Isn’t there another tent you can sleep in?”
“Aside from this one that I brought and set up? Nope, I’m good.”
“Didn’t Finn bring a tent? Mark? Grace?”
I laugh incredulously. “You’re telling me to go sleep inGrace’stent?”
“According to McKenzie, she’d greet you with open arms. Open legs, rather.” She snorts.
I’m having trouble keeping up with the conversation. And I have no clue what the right thing to say is anymore.
I know Cassia’s drunk. I said nothing when she was tossing back drinks earlier, certain of exactly how badly that would go over.
I didn’t see Cassia talking to McKenzie and have no clue why she would have said something to Cassia about Grace.
“So?”
“So, she’s after you because she ‘had you first.’ Isn’t that nice?”
Cassia’s tone is the vocal equivalent of a land mine. There’s a lot of emotion simmering beneath the flippant words, so I tread carefully.
“Nice? I’d call it psychotic. I’m not interested in Grace.”
“But youwere. You’ve had sex with her, right?”
I exhale. “Cassia…” I’m not sure what else to say.
Foolishly, I guess, I thought we were far past this. I haven’t kissed another girl since the first time we hooked up—nearly four years ago.
Cheating on Cassia has never occurred to me.
Iloveher. There’s emotion behind every kiss or touch we share. Before her, sex was mechanical. Another form of exercise that was all pleasure and no pain. An escape less destructive than flying fists or stolen whiskey.
I thought it was less destructive, at least. I was in no shape to be in a committed relationship back then, and based on where things stand between us now, maybe I’m still not. I faced two options—losing her or changing for her—and picked the one I could live with.
Again, I’m selfish.
