Dirty Princes (Hot Candy 3)

My heart is hammering against my ribs. Has been since the realization hit me. Since my first cigarette standing outside this shop. My stomach is twisted into a knot. It’s damn cold.

And nothing fucking matters.

“You should choose a guy who will give you what you need.”

Not me. Nothing I can offer.

“I want you both. So much I can’t sleep at night. I keep thinking of you and him together. And with me.”

Why am I thinking of this now? As if my worry for my brother wasn’t enough, why do I have to remember the things Brylee said, the feel of her hands on my cheeks?

And Ryan.

The cigarette drops from my numb fingers. I watch it burn in the snow until it goes out, smoke drifting upward.

A broad shadow falls over me. “Rid?”

No fucking way. I squint up, against the white of the clouds, at his shadowed face, and swallow hard. “Fuck off, R.”

He sighs. “What’s going on?”

“Jesus.” I turn to a random direction and start walking, slipping in the frozen slush. “I’m not in the mood to fight or fuck tonight.”

“I don’t want to…” He starts after me. “Rid, wait.”

“Holy shit, are you deaf, or stupid?” I walk faster, my leg aching, the pain flaring in my lower back as I unsteadily step over a pile of snow. “The fuck.”

His hand snags my elbow, stopping me from faceplanting.

This scenario feels familiar.

“Which part of Fuck Off didn’t you understand?” I snap at him, jerking my arm out of his hold. “Let go.”

“Let me help.” He hovers as I come to a halt, not touching me, his face serious. “I won’t fight or try anything, just… I swear, Rid. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

I wish I could deny something is wrong. So instead I start moving again, limping down the sidewalk, away from his intense, concerned gaze.

I don’t want his concern. I don’t need it.

“Rid, come on, man.” He’s still keeping pace, dammit. “Can we talk?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, gimme a break.”

I’ll fight him if I have to, if it means he gives me space. I’m going to lock myself up in my apartment until I can think straight again, whenever that happens. I can’t face the world right now.

Can’t fucking breathe.

“Rid, slow down.”

He grabs me just as my shoe slips in the melting snow, and for a heart-stopping moment, it’s like I’m flying, tethered only by his arms around me.

This isn’t our first dance.

The thought almost sends me into hysterical laughter, but it dies in my throat as he grunts, steadying me, holding on tight. I should push him away. Curse him to hell.

Circles. It’s all circles, wheels spinning, going nowhere.

Except his arms feel good around me. They feel like the only thing keeping me from sinking tonight.