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Why did I ever complain about my life on this island being so boring? Why!
I didn’t explain everything to Ryan’s mom after she threw her vodka-soda on me, but I did tell her it was all a huge misunderstanding that would get cleared up as soon as Ryan got home. Which is supposed to be any minute now, and the reason why I made everyone come here. So they could own up to their parts in this nonsense and apologize to him for what I’m assuming was probably just as hellish of a week as I’ve had.
You know, before I apologize to him for breaking his heart and not being honest with him as soon as I got home. Or four damn years ago.
“God, I suck,” I mumble, blowing out a breath and running a hand through my hair.
“You don’t suck,” Wren tells me. “Ryan is a big boy, and you have nothing to feel guilty about. He’ll be here any minute, and you’ll see that everything is going to be fine. You know he’s not a jerk who’s going to come in here screaming at you. He’s a nice guy who will forgive anything, because he cares about you. I told you he sent me a few texts checking on you this week. He doesn’t hate you.”
Great way to make me feel worse.
And what a wonderful reminder that, yes, I do still suck. Because my worry about Ryan, who I’ve known almost my entire life, pales in comparison to how much I’ve been worrying about Quinn, a man I only spent a handful of hours with five months ago. I’ve been alternating between being hurt that he hasn’t reached out to me now that he knows who I am and where I live, to being sick to my stomach with anxiety about everything he must be going through. It’s got to be ten times worse than my drama. Especially with the timing of everything and what team he decided to play for. Which is still such a freaky coincidence that my head wants to explode every time I think about it.
In a moment of weakness the other night, I even tried to message him to see if he was okay and to apologize from my new, super-secret and private social media account, but he had messaging turned off everywhere. He’s not an angry guy, which was clearly evident the night I spent with him, when he easily accepted my apology for insulting him in his own home and spent the rest of the night making me smile and laugh more than I had in a really long time. I just have to hope that fun, sweet, easygoing man who held my hair back when I puked and bought me a pizza when I was hangry knows this was all just one big misunderstanding and realizes I would never do something like this to him on purpose. He has to know I’m not a psycho asshole human being. He might not have known my last name, but the hours he spent with me should have proven to him exactly what kind of person I am. Quinn got the real me that night. The one who is always looking for something fun to do, can’t sit still, talkative and motivated, and who will do anything to make someone smile. The real me who has been missing since I got back here.
“Everything sucks, and now Ryan is going to hate me forever too, on top of everything else I have to deal with,” I grumble, my anger starting to boil over. “All because you three meddling men had to stick your noses where they didn’t belong!”
“We’re really sorry, and we promise we’ll make it up to you,” Palmer says, trying to give me one of his killer smiles that makes Birdie’s underwear immediately fly off, but I’m immune to his charms. “We’ll do any chore you ask. Order us around; we are at your service for as long as you want, to make your life easier. Scream, yell, and get it all out. I promise you’ll feel better. We deserve it, so take all your anger out on us. But mostly Bodhi.”
“Right on. I like it rough.”
Bodhi’s response earns him a smack on the arm from Tess, while I wonder exactly how much more of this I can take before my head really does explode. I’m not a ragey person. I’m not a crazy hothead like the media so nicely portrayed me.
After I’m assuming they spoke to my former boss, who lied like the devil she is about why I lost my temper with her.
I don’t just go around yelling at people who piss me off. I will stand up for what I believe in, and if you hurt one of my friends, there’s nowhere you can hide from me. But I have officially reached my breaking point and losing my shit on a bunch of grown men who can handle it, sounds pretty good right about now.
