Greek (Palm South University)

The kiss is deep and bruising, tied up with emotions of love and lust and pure fucking hatred. Slowly, we start to move again, grinding to the beat with his thigh between my legs and my dress hiked up over where he holds me in place. All of my weight is in his arms. I have no choice but to move the way he dictates, to sway the way his hands tell me to, to rub where he wants me to rub.

Holding me steadfast with one arm around the small of my back, he snakes the other one between us, sliding up my hiked leg along the tender skin of my inner thigh.

I shiver, barely breathing the words, “What are you doing?”

His only answer is a wicked grin, and then his fingertips slide up and up, higher and higher, dangerously close to where I know I’m slick for him.

Suddenly, the music is too loud. We’re too close. The kiss is too hard. My heart pounds in my chest in a warning, reminding me how much this man hurt me, reminding me how dangerous it is to play with a fire that burns so fucking cruelly.

I snap back away from his mouth, shoving my hands into his chest and pushing with all my might until he has no choice but to let me go. I stumble backward once he no longer carries my weight, but I don’t take more than a second to watch the stunned look on his face before I’m squeezing through the crowd, running over anyone who doesn’t move at the first muttered excuse me.

I have to get out of here. I can’t do this to Kade. I can’t do this to myself.

I want him.

I want him so fucking bad it hurts.

And I love him.

I still fucking love him.

Tears sting my eyes, not just at the admission, but at the realization that the love I have for him burns just as hot as the love I have for Kade.

Someone will end up broken.

The someone who deserves it most is me.

I push and shove and tear through the thick crowd until I finally push outside, stumbling over my heels in the process. But I catch my footing, straighten my dress, fix my hair and strut on once I’m on the sidewalk. Sniffing, I keep my eyes focused forward.

I have no idea where I’m going, but I know I can’t stay still.

I hear him calling my name after a moment — softly at first before he’s jogging up and hooking my elbow to rip me around. I expect to find anger, to find a man who was cock-teased and is now pissed off about it.

What I find breaks me even more.

Jarrett must have removed the stupid red contacts he was wearing, because his natural dark brown ones are flicking between mine, brows furrowed over top of them as he searches me for where I’m hurt. There’s nothing but care and concern and pure fucking love, and it instantly makes those tears I’ve been holding back build and rush over before I have the chance to stop them.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

I laugh at that last question, which makes him frown more. Slowly, tentatively, he pulls me into him, wrapping me in a soft, sincere hug. He holds me like that for a long while, and I just let the tears come, let them soak his tunic and the street we stand on.

“Yes,” I finally breathe. “You did hurt me.”

With my head on his chest, I see the way his throat hollows out, the way a thick swallow strains his neck. I pull back, breaking all contact and swiping at my face before I fold my arms over my middle and stand a few feet away from him. It’s far from fall in Florida, no matter what the date on the calendar, but the nights are cooler than they were before, and the breeze chills me to the bone as I look around at the people laughing and talking as they walk by us — oblivious to the turmoil raging inside me.

“You hurt me worse than anyone ever has in my entire life,” I continue. “I loved you, Jarrett. I trusted you. I gave you everything I had to give. I put up with the long distance and the lack of communication because I knew, at the end of the day, that I wanted you — no matter the cost.”

I sniff, more tears building in my eyes that I refuse to let fall.

“And then you tossed me to the side.”

Jarrett shakes his head, pain etched in his features as he reaches for me, but I pull away.

“You did. You let them get in your head, let other people convince you I was crazy. You left me like some silly part of your past.”