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She has from the beginning.
I’m the one still catching up.
Hating that I haven’t surpassed him in spite of the fact I’ve had her naked.
On top of me.
On her knees for me.
Moaning and groaning and calling out my name and begging for me.
Whatever she is to me, she isn’t to him.
I take pride in that.
I take pleasure in that.
I am finally no longer a failure where he’s always seemed to succeed.
Hell, even Penny has started to give him more of her attention.
Flirt back.
Perhaps Bryn isn’t just mine in the aspect of friendship; however, she will always be just mine in the avenue of more.
One disagreement doesn’t change that.
At least…it shouldn’t.
“Our mutual friend,” J.T. states with extra emphasis to underline his point, “doesn’t hate labels. She hates being mislabeled.” Another arrogant grin jumps into position. “And on that note, I’m gonna go. See if Bryn needs a ride to work. Her car wouldn’t start earlier, and Hurst offered to take a look at it this afternoon.”
That explains what they were discussing in the front of the estate when I assume she woke up.
It was the first glimpse of her face I had seen since she stormed out and someway…some impossible Injustice League how…she managed to get even more beautiful during her absence.
I swear I couldn’t think or see straight for the next hour.
He doesn’t wait for my acknowledgement to exit yet the departing does become momentarily paused due to Penny sauntering in. “Evening.”
“Hi,” she offhandedly replies without bothering to look in his direction.
“You look pretty with your hair up like that,” J.T. sheepishly compliments. “You should wear it that way more often.”
His words are met with a very brief smile before she delivers her full focus to me. “I brought you a cup of hot lemon balm tea. Fresh leaves from the garden.” Unlike my best friend, I’m offered a full face of joy. Excitement. “It’s known for helping to improve a person’s mood.”
“I. Am. Not. Moody,” leaves my mouth through my gritted teeth at the same time my best friend disappears from the room.
“I um…I didn’t mean to…um…” Her head nervously shakes as she carefully places the cup down on the table. “I didn’t say…uh…well, you just…um…”
“Perhaps Miss Penny was simply doing her duty,” Clark slyly steps in to defend. “Caring for the man of the estate.”
She swiftly nods, red loose locks at the top of her head bouncing around, reminding me of the style Bryn had earlier. “You looked like you needed something to lift your spirits.”
Between Clark’s firm gaze and her innocent one, I clear my throat to politely say, “Thank you.” An open palm gestures to the cup. “This was thoughtful.”
The sight of her entire essence lighting up over the statement unfortunately churns my stomach.
She isn’t the woman I want excited by my words.
