Page 62 of Never His Girl
I’ve never seen her like this—wild, enraged, raw with emotion.
“Let go of me, West. I swear,” she grunts, struggling to break free.
Her eyes burn red as she fights unshed tears. Her face is flushed, too, and it’s seeing her emotions exposed like this that has me thinking less about her reaction, and more about what caused it.
Seeing me with Parker. Misreading that entire encounter.
“I know what you think I did,” I say to her, but I swear the words go in one ear and out the other.
All because she’s had enough. Enough of being handled with kid-gloves. Enough of being given part of the truth instead of all of it. Enough of not being able to trust.
“I didn’t fuck Parker.” This time, I say the words point blank, right against her ear so there’s no mistaking what I mean.
A small measure of fight drains from her, but she still wants to break free. I won’t allow it, though. Not until I’m certain she understands.
“I wouldn’t do that, because I don’t evenwanther.”
Southside’s found her second wind and I have to hold her tighter, seeing those tears fall freely now.
“Let… go of me, West,” she seethes, threatening me with a wicked glare I can’t escape from this close.
But I don’t want to. I want everything she has to give. Every punch she can pull—whether they be real or emotional. I’ll take it all.
“I don’t want Parker or anyothergirl. Because the only one I want is you.”
My head spins with what I’ve just admitted—that I’m basically committed to her without her even being able to own the fact that she feels something for me. But… it’s all I have.
The truth.
When I free her from my arms, she staggers away, swiping angrily at the tears she’s shed.
“I saw the pictures,” she finally admits. “Saw what Pandora had to say about it.”
“And we both know that bitch is wrong more than she’s right.”
Southside’s shoulders are heaving and I can’t take my eyes off her. Not just because she’s beautiful even when she’s pissed and wants me dead, but because, more than anything, I want her back in my arms.
Even knowing she could very well swing on me if I get close enough.
Fucking psycho.
“You always expect me to just take your word for shit,” she accuses, “but the bottom line is that your ass isn’t trustworthy enough for that to work on me.”
She hits me with a deep stare that cuts to the bone.
“I’m so sick of this West. You’re exhausting and I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want you stalking me at school. I don’t want the flowers. I don’t want you stopping over uninvited. I just… I want you to leave me alone.”
She lowers her gaze and folds both arms across her chest, but I’m not feeling nearly as defeated as she is.
“Fuck that.”
Her wet strands quiver when she peers up, confused by my response.
“Fuck my feelings?” she asks.
I take steps closer and she eyes me warily. “No, fuck you trying to dismiss me. I’m not going anywhere and I’m not sure how many different ways I have to say that.”
Her lips part, like she wants to say more, but isn’t quite surewhatto say.