Playing with Fire

“Think again. I do. I care, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

My spine was ramrod straight, my voice stoic. Broken promise or not, I couldn’t let him kill himself for money.

“You’re my boyfriend. I have a say.”

The room sucked in a collective breath. I’d outed us without his permission, but rather than feeling embarrassed and shy, all I could feel was the blazing flame of anger.

I smiled serenely, pretending like the gasps and shocked glances didn’t hurt.

“Yup. That’s the truth, folks. West St. Claire is my boyfriend. Who would have thought, right? Different folks, different strokes, I guess.”

I turned back to West. “I told Max you can’t do the fight.”

“I can.” He took another step in my direction, an ugly sneer smearing across his gorgeous face. “And I am. You have no pull with me on this, so I suggest you go back to your little play, Gracie-Mae.”

Did he just call me Gracie-Mae? Like Grams did?

I took a step back, feeling my expression collapsing. But West, apparently, wasn’t done humiliating me. For some reason, it was important for him to shatter everything we were and leave nothing but broken pieces.

“And to make shit clear: you’re not my girlfriend, sweetheart. You’re just another notch in my never-ending belt. Just because I slept with you more than once doesn’t mean you’re going to wear my ring on your finger. The facts don’t care about your feelings, and fact is, you mean nothing to me. I screwed you because I’m screwed-up, yes.” He half-shrugged, letting all our time together roll off his back. I couldn’t breathe. Easton, behind him, buried his face in his hands, but even he didn’t stop West from saying all those things to me. I had a feeling he knew if he stepped too close, West was going to rip his head off.

“Wanna hear the truth? The big secret?” West air quoted the words with a chuckle. “Fine. I’ll humor you. When I was seventeen, my sister, Aubrey, died in a fire. The fire was my fault. She died because of me. For a while, when I looked at you, all I saw was redemption. I thought fooling around with you would give you the little pick-me-up your self-esteem had needed. But you were never more than that. There, I said it. Now get off my fucking case, Shaw.”

He turned around and left, leaving me with the flashes of phone cameras, chortles, and laughter.

All eyes were on me.

No ball cap. No boyfriend. No pride left.

Easton and Reign ran after West, trying to catch his step. Through my shock, I could see Karlie shouldering past the crowd, making her way toward me.

“Get out of my way! Out! I’m coming, Shaw. Stay put. Oof! Passing through! Make way!”

I was too numb to move.

I stood there, frozen in place, while Karlie stomped on feet and elbowed ribs to get to me in record time.

Tess was the first to snap out of her reverie. She was still standing closest to me. She jumped forward and placed her body in front of mine, covering me completely. She put her hands on her waist, huffing haughtily.

“Jesus, jerks much? Give the girl some space. What the hell are you looking at? Never seen a couple fighting before? Shoo! Shoo!”

I didn’t feel anything.

Not gratitude.

Not sadness.

Not anger.

Nothing.

“I’m going to make sure y’alls fancy iPhones are going to be smashed, or worse, if you don’t take a hike right now!” Tess’ voice boomed.

The dense ring of people finally shuffled sideways. Karlie snatched my arm, pulling me away from the throng.

“We have to make sure these videos don’t leak,” she barked at Tess, who nodded, biting down on her lip. She looked guilty, her cheeks flushed pink. As she should be. She wanted to hurt me. She just hadn’t been sure how far things were going to go.

“I’ll talk to Reign and East right quick. They’ll throw their weight if need be.”

Karlie nodded. “Text me.”

“I will.”

“Come.” Karlie wrapped her hands around me. “Let’s take you home.”

West

Then.

“Promith to make me waffles tomorrow morning?” Aubrey stood in the kitchen doorway, pouting. I poured a Costco bag of tortilla chips into bowls. East was setting up red Solo cups on the kitchen island after lining up bottles of liquor. My girlfriend, Whitley, was hanging up a stupid birthday sign on the wall.

Happy 17th Birthday, West!

Honestly, I thought it was exceedingly lame to have a birthday sign when I was the one throwing a party, but I let her have her way. Figured if I played my cards right this evening, I could get a blowjob out of it.

Birthday plus being an agreeable boyfriend? That equaled more than good sex. Getting head was nothing. I should think outside the box. Ask for anal. Or maybe a threesome.

“Westie?” Aubrey was tugging at my shirt now, pulling my horn-dog brain from the orgy I was throwing in my head. I looked down at my six-year-old sister. We had a huge-ass age gap, but I loved her to death. She blinked up at me with her big green eyes, smiling her partly toothless grin. Her two front baby teeth were gone now—I’d pulled them out myself when she was too chicken to do it—and she looked adorable. Aubrey was self-conscious about her teeth. When I took her to the carnival the other day, I had to blacken my two front teeth for solidarity purposes. The grin on her face was worth all the shit I got afterwards from the football team who saw me there.