Fall (Seaside 4) - Page 52

“Go get ’em, England.”

I made it as far as the door before turning around. “Where did Smith go?”

“He made a grand exit.” Angelica’s face lit up with humor. “And I flipped him off when his back was turned.”

“Dysfunctional.”

“Always.” She winked. “Now go get your woman.”

I saluted and ran to my car.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Priscilla

I walked to my house.

I just wanted to be home. I didn’t want to be at my cousin’s condo and I didn’t want to be anywhere near Jaymeson. He’d just try to break in now that he knew where the stupid key was. And I was pretty sure that if he started talking to me, I’d cry.

And I’d just suffered enough embarrassment to last me forever.

Sucking my tears in, I finally made it to my house and froze.

Construction workers were everywhere.

“Um…” I grabbed the first hard hat to walk by me. “What’s going on?”

He gave me a curious look. “There was a fire, we’re fixing the house.”

“I know there was a fire. It’s my house.”

His face lit up. “Oh, well did you want to see our progress?”

“No, that’s fine.” I crossed my arms and chewed my lower lip as people filed in and out of the house. “Do you know who’s in charge?”

“You’re looking at him.”

“Oh.” I shook my head. “Sorry, long day, um, so who told you to work on the house? Is this some sort of community donation or something?”

“Sorry.” He gave an apologetic smile. “I’ve gotta get back to work, the guy who’s paying us said we’d get bonuses if we finished early.”

“Who’s paying you?” I yelled as he walked away.

“Sorry!” He shrugged. “I’m not supposed to say. Have a great day!” He waved and disappeared into the house.

With nowhere to go, I dug my keys out of my purse and got into my car. I was too numb to be excited about the house.

At this point I didn’t care.

You know how when you’re little and nervous to talk in front of people — the advice is always to imagine everyone naked?

Well. I felt naked and exposed. How could he? How could he pretend to be my friend online for months? And then not tell me! I felt so stupid, all those times I was talking about Jaymeson, about missing him. My heart beat wildly. I had actually been talking to him.

And when I’d asked for advice.

Tears of embarrassment stung my eyes until I couldn’t hold them in anymore. The worst part? He knew every vulnerable thing about me. Everything. Jaymeson had cut me open and filleted me alive.

He’d pushed me into the arms of another guy only to be witness to that same guy basically cheating on me.

Nobody enjoys feeling unwanted, and maybe I was feeling extra sorry for myself, but how was it fair that Jaymeson acted the way he did?

He kept me close, he kissed me, he slept in the same bed — all without touching me. It was like he refused to let me go.

I needed him to let me go.

I needed to cut whatever string held us together.

With shaking hands I parked at the condo and pulled up my Facebook profile.

Delete.

Still trembling, I clicked through my photos from the wedding on my phone, and deleted every last one where Jaymeson was present.

My legs may as well have been lead as I walked up the stairs to the condo. Feeling like I was going to puke, I hurried and grabbed the key from under the pig and let myself in.

Fresh tears streamed down my cheeks as I slowly made my way into the kitchen, only to find Jaymeson sitting at the breakfast bar.

“Don’t go,” he whispered without turning around. His hands were wrapped around a mug.

“If I stay — then you need to go.”

“If you stay,” he repeated, lifting his head. I could see the muscles tense in his back. Did he have to be so perfect? Was he really that bored with his life? So bored that he needed to use me as entertainment?

“I’m not apologizing,” he finally said.

Seriously?

“I love your curves. I love your smile. Your hands. Even your feet. I love every piece of you — every piece fits perfectly together to make you who you are.”

“Jaymeson…”

“I wanted all of you without you having to sacrifice anything. I thought if I was your friend, I could still be a part of your life…somehow. A small part.”

“But that’s not what you did!” I shouted and threw my purse onto the floor. “You lied to me!”

“But—”

“No!” I grabbed him by the shoulders and turned his body around. “You made me fall for you! You made me believe that you were an entirely different person! You made me look forward to your messages, to our talks—”

“I looked forward to them too!” He stood and gripped my shoulders. “That’s what I’m saying! I didn’t want to give it up!”

“But you had me!” I shrugged out of his grip. “You had me and didn’t want me! Were you bored? Was that it? You thought it would be fun to play with my emotions? Hmm, let me see how Pris reacts when I reject her and push her into the arms of another…and then pull the little string tighter so she’s consumed by me.”

He perked up. “Consumed?”

“I. Hate. You.” I spat the words, perversely enjoying the way he flinched at each one. “I offered friendship — and that still wasn’t enough. You still weren’t satisfied!”

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Seaside Romance
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