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“So stop saying it when you’re not.” I open the door. I feel a surge of anger, not only at Shay but at all the popular, pretty girls like her. They toy with people’s emotions and treat people like trash because they’re good-looking. My hand is literally shaking.
Shay looks at me with what seems like concern. I don’t want it. I don’t want anything from her.
I slip through the front door, avoiding her gaze as I leave. “I’m gonna head home. Later.”
“Bye, Austin,” Shay says quietly before clicking the door shut behind me.
On my walk home, the crisp morning air is a welcome relief, washing over me like a balm for my wounded pride. My thoughts are a jumble of anger, confusion, and hurt. She came on to me last night. She let me have sex with her. Didn’t it mean anything? Why did she have to be such a…
Why do girls like her always seem to get away with this shit?
When I arrive home to my empty house, I know I should let it go. Chalk it up to a lesson learned, but I can’t. I don’t respond to any of Miles’s calls or texts because the memory of Shay’s callous words fester like a wound that won’t heal. By the time I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling unable to sleep, I know that something has fundamentally changed deep inside me.
My feelings for Shay, once tinged with admiration and lust, have quickly curdled into something darker.
I fucking hate her. I fucking hate everything she stands for. I will never allow myself to get involved with someone like her again. She used me and now I’m left to grapple with the fallout.
I can’t let this come between me and Miles.
I’m not letting his bitch of a sister mess things up with the one person on earth who has my back.
No fucking way.
Chapter ten
Shay
Back in the Present
“Why did you fuck me that night?”
I stare at Austin in utter and total disbelief.
The cold night air feels like it’s piercing my body in a million places. I search Austin’s face for any sense of double entendre. Irony. Anything.
But no, the soul-crushing tension in the air is real. His brown pupils are dilated with anger. But he also looks lost. Broken. Shattered.
He’s serious.
“I… I…what?” I stammer, unable to comprehend what the hell is happening. I’m wracking my brain to figure out what he’s talking about. Tears well up in my eyes and spill down my cheeks. “What do you mean, ‘why did I fuck you that night?’”
He slams his fist on the arm of the chair he’s sitting in. “Don’t play innocent with me. Tell. Me. Why?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I choke on my words as I crumble into the chair opposite him. His accusation is mortifying, considering my history. “Why would you make that up?”
I can’t help it, I begin to cry. I’m so confused. My mind is spinning. Trying to recall some incident between me and Austin. Wondering if I’m in the twilight zone or if he’s a psychopathic, gaslighting pig. Neither of which is ideal.
Austin laughs bitterly. “Fucking typical. You’re going to act like it didn’t happen and cry to get out of it.”
I take a few cleansing breaths to regain control of my heart rate and emotions. It’s been a stressful week. I haven’t gotten much sleep. My meds are on point, but I don’t want to trigger a stress seizure after being accused of fucking a guy I’ve never even kissed.
“Let’s start at the beginning.” I wrap my coat around me protectively, though I know it’s not going to do shit to get me out of this conversation. “When did this supposedly happen?”
Austin leans forward and looks at me for a beat. “Do you truly not remember? Were you that drunk?”
“Um…” I suck in a breath and then decide he’s not going to bully and berate me for another second. “I’m willing to figure this out, but I’m not going to continue this conversation if you’re going to deliberately try to shame me. In answer to your question, no. I don’t remember having sex with you. Please tell me when it happened, or I’m chalking you up to being certifiable.”
“At your house. The night you brought your two friends over and they hooked up with Miles. We were drinking some sort of flavored vodka. You asked me to dance and kissed me…” Austin looks pained. “You sucked my cock. Told me to fuck you. I came inside you. You said you were on the pill. Then you dipped—claimed you weren’t into me, I wasn’t your type and I should hook up with your friend. In significantly fucking brutal terms, I might add. It was a ten-minute conversation. How in the fuck could you forget that?”
