Page 33 of The Devil Takes
No, right?
Shit, this was not the time to be thinking about him. My cheeks grew hot, and I zoned back into the conversation only to catch the tail end.
“Real generous of you,” Dad said. I wasn’t sure what generous thing he was talking about, but I just bobbed my head in response.
“I try, sir.” Brett’s voice was gentle, but I could still hear the tension. Dad, thankfully, must not have caught on, though. Hopefully, he couldn’t smell the deception in the air along with overripe laundry. I forced my fists to unclench so I wouldn’t slice my palms open with my nails.
I don’t know how, but I survived the rest of Dad’s stay.
As I watched him drive off, his tailgate disappearing around the corner, I forced down the poisonous emotion inside me and, with a grimace, turned toward the back of the parking lot where I’d left my car.
That had gone…exactly as I’d expected.
I’d disappointed him.
He’d been surprisingly cruel.
What hadn’t been expected, however, was Brett jumping to my aid. It made me like him a bit more, even if he was an asshole that had forced me to give him my best friend’s number.
Speaking of my best friend…yeah.
I needed to fix that, too.
No. I wanted to fix that. It was different. With Dad, I needed to please him to survive. Tommy, though? Nah. I loved Tommy. It didn’t take much thought to realize I’d need to make another effort to make things right.
The idea of heading home to more forced polite conversations was enough to make my head feel like it was about to explode. Enough was enough. I’d bring in the big guns.
“You do know that buying me a bottle of Mountain Dew does not equal an apology?” Tommy said, sounding equal parts amused and exasperated. I turned around, shutting my textbook with a quiet thump. My pulse jumped, my already shitty nerves only growing shittier as I watched Tommy shake the snowflakes from his coat, sling it over our coat rack, and then flop onto his mattress, offending Mountain Dew in hand.
“It was the best thing I could afford,” I told him honestly. Though if I was being even more honest, I’d bought it for him because it was my favorite and I thought sacrificing my last soda to him would make him realize how sincere my apology was.
He narrowed his eyes at me. His hair was all done up like it was when he went out clubbing. Tommy liked to pull, though he never brought his conquests home. I wondered if it was because he thought I’d find it weird he only ever fucked other omegas. But I didn’t.
“Did you buy yourself one?” he asked, his manicured eyebrow still arched. My cheeks flushed, and I shook my head. Hadn’t had the money. After spending my extra cash on filling up my car and new turtlenecks last week, I’d been running short. Working part-time didn’t cover much of anything after I paid for my textbooks.
Tommy’s eyes narrowed, and he pursed his lips, hmm-ing and haa-ing for a moment before ultimately making his decision. I must’ve looked real pitiful because he patted his mattress like he was beckoning a dog, and I immediately launched myself at him.
“Well, that changes things!” He pulled me into a headlock, ruffling my hair with a manicured hand before he shoved me to the other side of the bed and sighed.
“I couldn’t buy another one.” I blinked at him, going for pitiful. Apparently he liked pitiful because he just laughed, rolling his eyes heavenward.
“God, your puppy eyes,” Tommy huffed.
I batted my lashes.
He shoved at my chest.
I batted my lashes again.
“Okay, okay.” Tommy grinned at me, the ice melting between us. “I forgive you.” He held up a finger sternly, “But only if you really truly regret your actions and you promise to never do it again.”
For most people, a phone number wouldn’t be such an issue.
But I knew Tommy.
And I knew I’d broken his trust. For him, it wasn’t about the what of it, but the why of it.
“I missed you,” I said, because sometimes saying I’m sorry was really fucking hard.