Wrong For Me

“You don’t have to be in love with her to love her. You need to realize she isn’t meant for you and stop playing around, stop trying to force yourself to feel something that you don’t.”

His eyes lift to meet mine, guilt and confusion easy to spot.

“It’s okay that you don’t because you’re not supposed to. She loves you, yes, but, Rowan, she was never in love with you like she thought, and I’m not saying that to be a dick. I’m saying it because it’s fucking true. What she feels for you is different from what I know she feels for me.”

“Seems to me, she can’t stand you.”

My brows lift. “That girl loves me, and you know it. And look what the fuck I’ve done. I’ve fucked it all up, trying to help, trying to save her and be the good guy. I know everything is jacked, but I can’t have you coming in and confusing her when the two of you aren’t it. I know you think I’m a bastard, and I am. And I know you don’t like the sound of it or when I say it, but the truth is, she is mine, every inch. And I’m gonna try real fucking hard to be hers again.”

Rowan glares, his jaw hardening as he looks off before turning back to me. “This is so fucked.”

I sigh, lifting the back of my hand to my lip to wipe the blood. “Yeah, it is, but that’s life. Now, we’ve just gotta figure out how to fix it, and I need your help, brother. When this is over, I don’t plan on leaving.” My gaze shifts between his, steady and strong. “And I don’t plan on giving her up either.”

He looks away. “What the hell can I do?”

“You can be there for her like she needs you to be, like you’ve been, but make it clear where you’re at in your head, so you’re not messing with hers. She’s already admitted to herself that the two of you are meant as friends; she knows that. But you still owe her the conversation—as awkward as it might be and as much as I don’t want you to have it.”

Rowan gives me a side-glance I can’t quite read. “Yeah, and when all this is over, if she is with you—which you don’t deserve, by the way—what’s that mean for me? I won’t lose my friend to you because you want to be a jealous bastard.”

Fuck.

I lick my lips, my hands finding my waist. “Yeah, I, uh … I’mma work on that.”

When Rowan scoffs, I can’t help but grin a bit.

He chuckles lightly before he forces himself to stop, and his eyes meet mine. “You need to fix this. Whatever the fuck it is, you have to fix it. She’s … not right. Don’t wait until she’s not herself at all.”

“I’m trying.”

He nods, bending to pick up his bag. He glances my way to say, “Try harder,” before walking out the door.

I will, brother.Chapter Twenty-EightOakleyI type in the last number, biting my nail, and the fucking thing blinks red again.

“Shit,” I hiss in a whisper, dropping back against the wall when another dizzy spell hits.

When the hell did he change the password?

Every night, when it came time to go home, I’d come into my dad’s office, and he’d grin and ask about the day … while sliding a file into this safe.

I know the ins and outs of Blaze business is in this safe. I just never cared to stop and think about it before.

Things are different now. I’ve become instantly aware of how unfulfilled I am here. I need to feel closer to my dad, and I want more.

I am Blaze. It’s time to find out what that truly means.

I run my hands down my face, fanning myself as a sheet of sweat coats my skin. Then, I pull out my phone and start scrolling through pictures and contacts over and over and over again until a thought I haven’t already tried hits.

With a lick of my lips and slight hope that my next guess won’t work, I type the corresponding numbers.

Six. Two. Seven. Four. Seven. Seven. Two.

Right as I’m about to let out a sigh of relief, it gets wedged halfway in my throat, making me gasp.

The safe door clicks open.

Oh, fuck no.

I lean over, peeking into the slight opening, and I’m met with at least a dozen files.

I slowly grab ahold of the metal door, opening it the rest of the way, but as soon as I do, I hear Alec’s voice booming in the hall, calling my damn name.

“Shit!” I jump up, quickly grabbing each and every folder, and shove them into my gym bag.

Yes, they belong to me, and I have a right to them, but I have to do this on my own and without his influence or demands. And, with how things are right now, I have no idea who to trust and with what.