The Boy Next Door

It didn’t work.

Nothing worked.

Even when I broke down and asked her out, I knew this is how it would eventually end between us. When it comes down to it, I can’t give Alyssa what she craves. What she deserves.

No matter how tempting it is, I can’t love her the way she needs me to.

So where does that leave us?

In a place that neither of us wants to be.

More than anything, I wish Alyssa had just been a fuck. One I could forget about. But she was never that. Whether she realizes it or not, that’s the problem.

“Why?”

One shaky word falls from her lips, but it’s more than enough. It’s like a burning arrow shot right through the center of my heart. Even though it’s tempting to look away, I force myself to hold her gaze. It’s vital to bear witness to the harm I’ve inflicted. It’ll serve as a permanent reminder to never let my guard down again. The damage rippling in its wake isn’t worth it.

My gaze roams over her. So badly do I want to close the distance and pull her into my arms. She might only be five foot six, but Alyssa is a towering pillar of strength. I don’t think I’ve ever met another girl like her. It’s doubtful I ever will again. She’s brave, confident, and ballsy. It’s a wicked combination that drew me in from the very beginning.

It’s the only reason she’s standing before me now.

Had I really fooled myself into believing this girl wouldn’t track me down and demand answers?

I should have known better.

More than anything, I wish everything could be different between us. I wish I weren’t so fucked in the head. But, like everything else in life, wishes don’t mean jack shit.

“Colton?” she bites out, thrusting out her phone. “Why would you do this?”

I jerk my shoulders. There’s no way I can divulge the truth. That would mean opening up and letting her in—kind of like slitting my wrists and bleeding out emotionally. And that, I’m unwilling to do. So, I go with something believable. “I dunno, just kind of feels like this relationship has run its course.” When her eyes widen, I force out the rest, needing a clean break. I can’t have her coming back and trying to repair this. I need to blow it up. “There’s only so much monotony I can deal with.”

Her mouth tumbles open as she sucks in a sharp breath. “What?”

When her eyes turn glassy, I glance at the cement block wall beyond her. If I don’t, I’ll drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness. And I can’t allow that to happen. There’s no other choice but to soldier on.

“We had a good run. Six months is practically an eternity as far as I’m concerned. But I’m over it. I need to mix things up. Explore my options.”

“You’re doing this because you,” there’s a beat of silence as if she’s having a difficult time wrapping her lips around the words, “want to sleep with other people?”

No.

“Yeah.” I shift my weight, impatient to get this over with. Bile rises in my throat as I toss the question back at her and hold my breath. “Don’t you?”

Any color filling her cheeks drains away as she shakes her head. “No, I don’t.”

I tighten my hands into fists to stop myself from reaching out and consoling her. My words are ripping her apart, and it’s excruciating to watch. Any moment, I’m going to crumble. “Look, Lys—”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” she growls from between clenched teeth. “I will never be that to you again.”

I jerk my head into a terse nod. “It’s better to walk away before someone gets hurt.”

A gurgle of strained laughter bubbles up from her throat. “Yeah, it’s too late for that.”

As much as I fight to keep the words locked deep inside, I blurt, “I’m sorry.” It’s probably the only thing that’s come out of my mouth that bears any resemblance to the truth.

“Are you?” She tilts her head and stares at me as if she has no clue who I am. It’s the first time she’s ever looked at me that way. It takes effort to keep my expression carefully blank. Almost bored. “You know what hurts the most?”

All of it.

There’s nothing that doesn’t hurt.

I brace myself before shaking my head.

“That you thought so little of me and my feelings that you couldn’t be bothered to have an honest conversation.” Again, she holds up the phone. “Instead of acting like a man, you sent me a lame-ass text.” Alyssa falls silent, almost as if digesting what she’s just expressed. “If I hadn’t hunted you down, you probably would have ghosted me.”

As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. That’s exactly what the plan had entailed.

“It seemed easier that way,” I mumble, feeling like a grade-A asshole. It’s almost impressive the depths I’ve managed to jackhammer down to.