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Oh yeah, the boy’s got it bad for this particular girl.
“I take it all back,” I mutter as he drags me away and out of the garden. “You really are into chicks. But honestly, why the fuck did you have to pick Cassie’s friend of all people?”
***
I’ve been buzzing Amber’s door for what feels like hours, but no reply. I try again calling her on the cell phone.
Nothing. Nada.
The call goes to voicemail. She’s switched her phone off.
Seth is smoking beside me, the embers of his cigarette glowing in the night.
“Open up!” I slam my fist on the building door and relish the jarring pain shooting up my arm.
“Easy, guy.” Seth throws his smoke down, steps on it and grabs my arm. “Let’s go.”
“Fuck you. Lemme go. I have to talk to her.”
“She’s upset right now, man. Give her time.”
“Time will only make this worse.” I know it. I can feel it in my bones. Have to clear this up before it festers. “Go, I’ll be fine.”
“The hell you will.” He tugs. “Come on, J.”
“Get your hands off me.” I shake him off and press the buzzer button again. “Why won’t she talk to me? I didn’t do anything.”
“We talked about this. Your reputation—”
“Fuck my reputation. I’m a person. I’m not my past.” Not sure I’m making sense. I’m gonna break something, and if it’s not this door, it will be a bone in my body. I bang on her door and yell her name.
I only want… Want her to keep me, dammit. To give me the benefit of a doubt. Don’t I deserve even that much?
“J, dammit. Come on, before someone calls the police.” He tears me away from the building entrance and hauls me down the street, glancing over his shoulder all the way. His grip is cutting off the circulation in my arm, and the pain is welcome, though not enough to take my mind off this mess.
My fault. It’s all because of my fucking reputation, my fucking past and my need to drown it all in sex, sex I was in control of, until I met Amber.
My fault for not punching Cassie in the face when she came on to me.
I need to drink more.
But Seth has other ideas. He’s dragging me away, walking me back to my apartment, and dammit, I have nothing there to drink, not since the jackasses who live with me drank all my liquor.
And then Amber took me to her place and broke out the brandy, and we toasted Helen together.
Fuck.
Amber. She tastes like candy. I want to kiss her again, wrap myself in her. She’s so intoxicating and yet she feels so good, like home, a feeling I’ve almost forgotten.
I want her. Need her. So much it fucking hurts.
Rubbing the demon inked on my chest, I stumble after Seth who’s determined to bring me home safe.
I let him. I don’t even bother to shake my arm free again. We stagger past closed stores and groups of guys and girls barhopping and having a fun night out, and my brain shuts down to minimum functions.
Heart beating. Eyes scanning the sidewalk ahead. Swallowing down the bile rising in my throat. Breathing.
Because I don’t get how this is happening again—and how it can be worse than anything that has happened so far in my fucked up life.
