Pretend You're Mine (Inked Hearts 3)
Page 145
No.
But I’m tired of waiting for shit.
I’m tired of watching the world slip by my fingers.
Stepping through the Winters’s oak door feels like stepping into the past. The living room is the same spacious paradise. White walls. Plush carpet. Sleek red couch. Cherry table.
Penny’s life—from her birth to some vacation a few years ago—is on the wall, right above her younger sister’s.
The room is packed. A dozen of Penny’s friends. A dozen of Frank’s—I assume the guys in khakis are his friends. And a dozen of her parents’ business partners.
She must hate that she needs Daddy’s money. That it comes with strings.
It doesn’t satisfy me.
I’m not smirking over how far she’s fallen.
I know her well enough to get how much it sucks.
Leighton’s fingers intertwine with mine. Her heels tap the tile as she crosses the foyer. They sink into the carpet of the living room.
Her eyes narrow on something.
Penny and Frank in the corner of the room, clinking champagne glasses with her dad and some guy his age. A friend. Or Frank’s dad.
Whoever it is, he’s happy for them.
He’s beaming.
She is too.
Her honey eyes light up as she laughs. She tilts her head back, downing the champagne in one go. Shakes her head damn, that was a lot. Looks up at Frank the way she used to look at me.
Asking for his approval.
His praise.
His love.
He gives it to her. He brings his glass to her lips. Smiles as she takes a long swig.
She rises to her tiptoes.
He wraps his hands around her waist.
They kiss like no one is watching.
Like they’ll never get enough of each other.
“Ryan.” Leighton’s nails dig into my wrist.
She’s trying to take the hit for me.
But she doesn’t need to.
It still hurts, seeing them together. It’s quick, like taking a hit during sparring.
It stings.