When Rivals Love (Bayshore Rivals 3)

When we pull into the driveway and Banks cuts the engine, we don’t get out right away. Banks take a few deep breaths like he is trying to calm himself before he opens his mouth to speak. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be angry. I mean, I am angry, but not at you. I don’t want to let my anger out on you. I don’t know what the fuck Sullivan was thinking, but it really pisses me off seeing you hurt. You’ve been hurt enough, and it’s our job to prevent you from being hurt any further.” I’m still mad at Sullivan, but having Banks tell me this, has me feeling a whole lot better.

“Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like. Let him come home and explain himself before we jump to any conclusions,” I suggest, and Banks nods in agreement.

“In the meantime, we do have the house all to ourselves for the next two hours.” A mischievous grin spreads across his face. “What could we possibly do with all that free time?”

The mood inside the car turns swiftly. All concerns disappear and are replaced with an aching need to go inside and get undressed.

“Mhm, I’m not sure. Let’s go inside and think of something. You know how I can think best?” I ask, tapping my chin.

“How is that?” Banks asks with a grin.

“Naked.”

8

When Oliver and Sullivan walk through the door, Banks and I have just finished putting dinner together. The whole time we’ve been waiting, my emotions have been all over the place. I try not to interpret the scene I witnessed earlier wrongly; I want to talk to Sullivan before I give it any more thought.

“Hey, guys,” I greet them, forcing a smile on my face.

“Hey, beautiful,” Oliver says with a grin, walking up to me and kissing my cheek.

“Hey,” Sullivan mutters, walking up to me next. He places a chaste kiss on my other cheek. I expect him to say something more, anything more, to explain himself, maybe even apologize. But he does none of those things. Instead, he grabs a soda from the fridge and turns his back to me. Literally and figuratively. Part of me is screaming inside, telling me that I should say something, anything.

“I’m going to head to bed,” Sullivan says, out of thin air, and my hands clench into tight fists. Of course, you are.

“You’re not gonna eat?” Oliver questions.

Sullivan shakes his head. He can’t even lift his head to look at his brother as he speaks.

“Nah, I don’t feel good. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

“No fucking way,” Banks yells, causing everyone to look his way. Anger spills out of him as he lifts a closed fist, slamming it down on to the marble island. “You’re going to explain to us, but more importantly, to Harlow, what the hell you were doing with Tiffany earlier?”

“What?” Oliver’s eyes widen in shock. My throat tightens as I await Sullivan’s answer. He still loves me, right? He still wants this? Us? All these questions hang on the edge of my tongue, but I just don’t have the courage to ask them.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Sullivan answers defensively. His eyes swing around the room before coming to a stop on mine. In his blue depths, I see despair and anger, “Just talking. Am I not allowed to talk to anyone anymore?”

“Jesus, what the fuck, dude?” Oliver yells, his carefree, happy mood changing with every second that ticks by.

“Just calm down, I wasn’t doing anything wrong. You’re blowing this whole thing up!” He growls, waving us off before walking out of the room. I listen to his footsteps as they recede into the other room and then up the stairs. My mind is blown, my heart shattered. What is going on, and how in the world am I going to fix it? Is Sullivan really befriending the one person who hates me most?

Tears well in my eyes, but I blink them away. Crying isn’t going to do me any good right now. Banks curses under his breath and follows behind him, only to return minutes later.

Banks stomps into the kitchen, “He locked his door and is refusing to open it.” I don’t understand. How did we get here? I thought everything was good. I thought we were all happy. I must be wearing my emotions on my face because a moment later, Banks is at my side, his arm wrapping around me, “If you want me to, I can go back up there and kick the door in, but I don’t think it’s going to do any good.”

I shake my head, “No. If he wants to talk, he’ll talk. We can’t make him do something he doesn’t want to do, and if what he says is true, then there isn’t anything more for him to say.”