Her All Along

“Avery!” Angie yelled up the stairs.

“Oh my God,” Amber breathed. She quickly fell forward on the mattress, only to roll off the bed and scramble for her clothes.

The panic in her eyes was almost funny.

I took my sweet-ass time instead. By the time Angie had reached the second floor and could see me in our bedroom, I was pulling the condom off my cock and throwing it in the wastebasket by my nightstand.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Angie seethed and threw me a lethal glare, which she promptly slid to Amber. “Get out!”

I kept my mouth shut as Amber frantically put on some clothes and rushed out of the room, and then I reached for my jeans on the floor and stepped into them.

“You make me sick,” Angie spat.

“Feeling’s mutual, darling.” I zipped up carefully and let out a breath. “Damn, she was tight.”

She hadn’t been. How could she be, when she’d fucked her way through the lacrosse team.

Tears of rage burned in Angie’s eyes. “You don’t even try to hide it.”

I offered her a smile. “Go fuck yourself.”

Sometimes, I wanted to say a lot more. Sometimes, I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to understand why she’d betrayed me the way she had, but then I’d be giving her the satisfaction of knowing she’d ruined me.

“You’re evil, Avery. I sincerely believe that now. I haven’t done anything to deserve this. You’re just plain rotten—inside and out. God, I fucking hate you. I can’t wait till my apartment’s ready.”

That goddamn soundtrack restarted in my brain.

God only knows…

“I think you hate yourself more than you can hate me.” I walked toward her slowly. “You hate yourself because you’re still in love with me.” Coming to a stop right in front of her, I met her fiery glare, so full of anger and heartbreak, and I cupped her cheek gingerly. “You hate that I can play with you like this.” I dipped down and dropped a soft kiss to her cheek. She let out a choked cry and shook her head. “Don’t deny it, darling. You want me so fucking much, and you can’t stand it.” I exhaled and shifted a hand between her legs. “Feel what I’m doing? Seconds after I fucked someone else, you let me touch you.”

“I hate you, Avery,” she cried.

“I know you do.” I kissed her cautiously on the lips and decided to see how far I could go. “But a part of you is desperate to hear me say how much I love you.” I caused her to go rigid when I unbuttoned her dress pants, but she didn’t stop me. “You want to hear how special you are. That you’re the love of my life.” There we go. As I flicked the tip of my tongue against her upper lip, I slid my hand down her pants and gently cupped her pussy. “You want to be my only one.” Carefully pushing her panties aside, I used my middle finger to tease the spot over her clit. “I could probably get you to suck my cock right now—which was just inside another girl.”

Finally, she broke down. She shoved me away, and my back hit the doorframe. Then she righted her clothes and sobbed her heart out on the way to the bathroom.

And still, whatever she felt right now didn’t come close to how I felt. How she had made me feel.

I’d fucking begged her to stop.

She’d gone behind my back anyway, certain that she was right. Certain that I would, what, thank her in the end?

God only knows…

Two

It didn’t come as a surprise to me when I couldn’t sleep that night.

The pressure on my chest had amplified, and I gave up around three in the morning.

I got off the couch in the living room and pulled on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, and then I started the coffeemaker in the kitchen. I left the house in darkness and grabbed yesterday’s paper and the local listings I’d printed out. If Angie thought she was the only one who couldn’t wait to move out, she was wrong. It was time I got the fuck out of here too. The place was slowly suffocating me.

Minutes later, I stepped out on the porch and sat down on the top of the two steps.

It was a shame, because I liked this neighborhood.

The fishermen would be back in a couple hours, after which the silence would be filled with faint sounds of seagulls. My quiet street was about two minutes from the marina, and I lived in a modest Victorian house I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to afford on a teacher’s salary. However, if a teacher married an attorney, he might find himself surrounded by picket fences, manicured lawns, and perfectly painted shutters.

One of the neighborhood kids mowed our lawn. Our shutters were some pastel blue. I’d become one of the people I’d envied as a child, and ironically, my envy couldn’t have been more misplaced. A fucking apple tree in the front yard didn’t make me happier.