Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)
“What the hell is it to you how I dress and who I kiss, anyway?”
His eyes darkened. “I’m the father of your child.”
“So you get to tell me how to dress?” I met his eyes with a glare. “You were next to me on that porch. Are you going to tell me that you don’t kiss your wife?”
“If I do?”
“Whatever Lottie does to you…”
&
nbsp; I sounded petty.
I hated that I sounded petty.
“So if I fuck Lottie in the ass, you’re going to let West fuck you in the ass?” he demanded.
I froze so I didn’t flinch. “Yeah. I am.”
He stepped back, examining me. “You have thorns around your heart now, Snitch.”
His words hit me like a punch to the chest. I swallowed, trying to work past the emotion.
“And you have secrets burying yours, Grayson.”
Grayson worked his jaw back and forth. Across the room, I spotted West coming to me, through with talking to one of Grayson’s great-aunts.
“I want to tell you everything, Snitch,” he said, “but I won’t make any more promises I can’t keep.”
What the hell am I supposed to do with that?
I swallowed. “I don’t care. I won’t let you in. Ever again.”
I didn’t trust my words.
Grayson dragged his pinky across his lower lip, an action I now knew meant he was barely holding himself back.
“I don’t care if you hate me forever. I’ll cut myself on you. I’ll bleed. You’re worth it, Story Hale.”
“You said you were letting me go!”
“I—fuck.” He looked away, dragging his hands through his hair.
“Damn, Angel,” West said as he got to me, weaving his arm around my waist. “I like this dress on you.” He pressed his lips to my cheek.
It felt wrong and my gut tightened.
But I liked the look in Grayson’s eyes, as though he was two seconds away from punching West in the face and tackling me to the ground.
I thumbed my locket later that night with more desire to open it and see what was inside. I felt like if I opened it, I would end us for real, though.
This was all wrong. I was supposed to be moving on, not tangling myself deeper into his briars.
My phone buzzed.
Are you asleep?
I climbed up, sitting against my headboard, pulling my sheets with me and staring at the message the entire time.