Page 45 of Never His Girl
Nope.
Not doing it.
“I heard about Scar,” he says first, making it easier to focus on reality. “I know how important she is to you, and I’m sorry that what happened betweenusmade things harder forher.”
There’s sincerity in his voice that I don’t expect, and it’s difficult to process. Then again, he’s a master manipulator, and this could all be part of the act.
“I already told you, don’t mention my sister,” I snap, which draws a frustrated sigh out of him.
“I’m just trying to own the shit I’ve done, Southside. What happened to heris on me,” he admits. “Even if…”
My brow quirks when it sounds like he’s about to say more, but his words cut off there, leaving me hanging by a thread.
It makes me scoff at myself, remembering who I’m dealing with. “You say so much, but at the same time, you say nothing at all, West. I’m sick of the riddles.”
He blows out a breath and the tension in his jaw tells of his frustration. Is it because I challenge him? Because I don’t let him get by with these weak apologies and thin explanations that seem to work on everyone else? I’m done letting him hold the reins. He’s not my leader, and I sure asshitam not one of his pathetic followers.
“You told me to leave less than five minutes after we fucked. Who the hell are you gonna blame that on?” I blurt out, surprising myself with the bold question.
It’s humiliating enough tothinkit, but speaking it takes the embarrassment to a whole new level.
Suddenly uncomfortable with what I just put out into the atmosphere, I clutch the lapel of my robe and pull it closed, crossing my legs right after.
“That…”
He stops there, pinching the bridge of his nose when he leans forward, resting both elbows on his knees.
“I can’t fucking do this,” he goes on, grumbling to himself while I just sit, listening. “That was me being a dick,” he eventually admits. “I… felt something. And it scared the shit out of me.”
“You felt something,” I repeat flatly. “You’d have to have a heart to feel something. So, forgive me if I call bullshit on that one.”
He lets out another of those labored breaths, and he’s starting to turn red. Only, I’m certain it isn’t from embarrassment, but rather anger.
“Fuck!” he growls, loudly enough that I’m certain whoever’s at either side of this suite just heard him.
My posture goes rigid, thinking he’s about to either freak out or start yelling. I’m now about two seconds from putting him out of here.
“With other girls, it’s always the same. Withallof them,” he clarifies. “It’s… it’s fun while it lasts, then it’s over as soon as we leave the bed, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t like that with you,” he stammers, having a hard time getting his thoughts together.
Those heartbreaker greens of his flash toward me, and I feel so much in his stare.
“You lingered,” he says. “We fucked, it ended, and I expected the shit that came with it to just… fade, but…”
My gaze rises when he stands to pace, seeming to search for the right words.
“I expected to have this big epiphany when it was over, this sudden realization that everything IthoughtI felt wasn’t real, but it wasn’t like that.”
He pauses, and it feels like my heart’s trying to leap out of my chest as I listen.
“Being with you made it even clearer that, somewhere between me trying to hate you and you trying to hateme,something changed,” he admits. “And I hated myself for—”
“Hated yourself for what?” I ask, hearing the air of desperation I meant to keep to myself.
His feet aren’t moving now, and I have his eyes again. They’re boring a hole through me and I swear I feel him struggling to hold all this inside. Struggling against whatever has him spilling his soul right in front of me tonight.
“I hated myself because… I fucking fell for you, Southside.”
My throat tightens, hearing what he’s just admitted. But I’m not melting at his feet like some might. Instead, I’m madder than when he first began to speak because nothing makes sense. Realizing there’s more between us than bitter rivalry shouldn’t have triggered such an ugly response from him. It just shouldn’t have.