Very Wicked Things (Briarwood Academy 2)

I went limp. And then something changed in him, and he slowed, his movements more drawn out. He took my chin in his hand and kissed me gently, lingering, until I wanted to cry out with the whirlwind of emotion it brought to the surface. The past came rushing back again, making me reel.

He’d never forgive himself for his sins, and now he’d never forgive me for mine.

We’d never be together. Not now. Not ever.

I had nothing to lose.

“I love you,” I gasped out, holding his face with my hands. “I never stopped.”

He paused, his eyes wider than I’d ever seen them. I brushed back his hair to see his eyes. He touched my lips, running his fingers across my top lip and then my bottom. I dipped my tongue out and curled it around him, making him groan.

“Dovey,” he muttered out hoarsely. “You—”

I stopped him with my hand, fearing his words. I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Don’t stop,” I whispered. “Finish.”

He searched my face, but then gave in, his hips taking me, pushing me to the outer limits. “Behind you,” he muttered after a while, placing me on my knees like he wanted. He entered me forcefully, his grunts making me hotter.

Yes, yes, yes, I said, telling him I’d love him until I took my last breath, telling him I was sorry, that I wished I could go back and make us right.

Why did it matter to tell the truth? I had no pride left.

After a while, he cried out and went over the edge.

When it was over, he bowed his head over me, while I eased to the side, taking gulps of air. Minutes passed, making my heart break as neither of us spoke, just our eyes staring at the other. Mine were bright from unshed tears. His were empty. No hate, no love, nothing.

A huge gulf divided us, vaster than the ocean, bigger than the universe. We’d never be able to cross it. Even with sex.

I picked up my clothing and brushed it off, wanting to drag it out, wanting him to say something, but he didn’t. Because he’d worked me out of his system. I dressed, but he didn’t move, not even a twitch, just his eyes following me.

This had been his goodbye.

THE AWFUL DAY didn’t stop. I walked to my car and Spider was leaning against it, straightening as he saw me, his blonde hair glinting in the sun.

I stopped in front of him. “Your eyes look like road maps.”

He pulled out a pair of Ray Bans and slid them on. “Problem solved,” he said.

“I’m not coming back,” I stated baldly.

He ignored me in favor of a cigarette from his leather jacket. He lit it, his hands cupping the flame from the wind. Taking a hit, he tossed his head back on the exhale. Blowing smoke rings. Show off.

I tapped my foot, waiting for his hateful words. They were coming. I knew it.

Finally, he leveled his gaze at me, seeming oddly subdued. “I never knew you were flat-out crazy. Selling yourself.” He shook his head.

“Then maybe you don’t know me,” I said. “You ditched me. I had no one to turn to.”

He stared down at his hands and tucked them in his pocket, sighing heavily. “I don’t know what the bloody hell I was thinking. I’m a right bastard for kicking you out of my apartment and not following up. I’m too impulsive and I just reacted. My brain is all kinds of screwed up when it comes to you. And what’s nuts, is I didn’t even know how shitty I was being ‘cause all I could think about was myself.”

“There are things about my past that I didn’t want to share. I didn’t want you involved. Still don’t. You have a past you never talk about, too,” I reminded him.

He mulled it over, thumping his cigarette to the ground. “I get it. You got secrets and they’re ugly. Just tell me when you’re ready, then. I’ll be here.”

We stared at each other in silence.

And then he changed gears, his face twisting. “He’s it for you, isn’t he? There’ll never be an us.”

I cleared my throat. “I do love you. And it’s hard to explain even to myself, but it’s more than friendship. But when I see Cuba, if there’s such a thing as a soulmate…he’s mine. It hurts to breathe without him.”

Silence and then, “God, I want someone to love me like that—” his voice broke as he covered his face with his hands.

And that was enough to send me straight to his arms, letting it all go. I hugged him, wrapping my arms around his waist, laying my head against his chest.

I didn’t know if this was goodbye for us or not.

“Winning isn’t everything, but losing her was.”

–Cuba

I WATCHED HER leave the loft.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tell her not to go because my voice was kaput, my throat clogged with emotion.

I was terrified I’d never see her again.

I was terrified I would.

She had power to hurt me.

She had hurt me by selling herself.

And, I was still angry.

A part of me was glad she’d left, so I could figure this out, wade through the wacked shit she’d told me about her father. Everything I’d ever thought about her, I’d have to realign and reconfigure.

I couldn’t comprehend her childhood or her world. She was right about that.

Did I hate her? Never. Our past was imprinted on my useless heart.

When I’d seen for my own eyes what she’d done at the hotel, I’d crashed and burned hard, my heart feeling ripped out of my chest. I hadn’t seen the man she was with, but if I had, he wouldn’t be walking. Complete and utter rage had dogged me the entire weekend, and I’d holed up in my room, agonizing over what I’d learned.