As I continue to watch Ryder shove his tongue down her throat, I’m starting to realize my girl isn’t separating shit from shit.
Finally, Ryder enters his apartment, the asshole looking back at Amber one last time before closing the door behind him. After he disappears, Amber stills, her attention aimed on where he was standing. I sigh, wondering what the fuck’s going through her head. As she slowly turns around, her weary eyes catching mine, I think I know the answer to that question.
My girl’s hurting, torn.
Christ.
Since I’m the one who initiated this fucked-up scenario, how do I end it? With my mind and heart continuing to battle it out, that’s one question I don’t have a single answer for, my hatred for myself growing by the second as Amber slips into the passenger seat.
“You okay?” I ask, knowing she’s not.
She nods, a weak smile slanting her lips as she leans her head against the window. “Yeah. I’m cool.”
“You’re cool?” I parrot, an edge of sarcasm in my tone as I pull onto the road. “You sure as hell don’t seem like you’re cool, baby girl.”
She twists her head in my direction. “What do you want me to say, Brock, huh?”
“I don’t know,” I bite back. “The truth, maybe? That you’re an emotional mess right now? That you want more of him because he thinks you belong to him?”
She opens her mouth, but quickly snaps it shut, her gaze landing everywhere else but on me as I slam on the brakes. My Hummer screeches to a stop, the tires leaving a thick, inky stain on the street as I grip the wheel.
“I heard what he said to you, Ber,” I whisper, trying to calm the rage scorching my skin. “That you’re his. That you’ve always been his.” Her eyes widen, shock thickening their depths as she lifts them to mine. “I heard everything last night.” I pause, acid crawling up my throat as I try to get out the question that can forever change our relationship to move past my lips. “Do you, Ber? Do you belong to . . . him?”
Nervousness plagues her features as she leans over the center console, brushing her fingers through my hair. Before I know it, she’s seated in my lap, her arms knotted around my neck, her cheek pressed to mine as she trembles under my hold. I take an unsettling breath and keep it locked in my lungs for as long as I can, her silence scaring the fuck out of me as I await her response. This girl’s colored every dark corner of my universe, her existence the very reason for mine. Though I’m the monster who caused this chaos, the filthy serpent of her confusion, I don’t know what I’ll do if her answer’s the one I don’t wanna hear, the one that’ll undoubtedly trip me over the edge between semirational and absolutely homicidal if she replaces me with Ryder.
I can’t lose her to him; every inch of me will surely incinerate into ashes if I do.
Amber kisses my shoulder, her sweet breath searing hot through the fabric of my sweatshirt as she whispers, “I think a part of me belongs to the both of you after last night.”
At her words, my blood stops running as I try to digest her poisonous confession, try to wrap my head around what I’ve done to us. Still, I have to own her feelings, suck up to the fact that a part of me knew this could happen. Yet as I drag Amber off my lap, shoving her back into her seat, the logical side of my brain splits in half, my pulse gunning through my neck as I put the vehicle into drive, speeding onto the highway in an effort to outrace my guilt for fucking up the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
“Are you . . . mad at me?” she asks, her voice breaking as she tries to thread her fingers through mine. “Seriously, Brock. Are you mad?”
“God help me, but yes, I’m fucking pissed, Amber.” I yank my hand away from hers, aware I’ve further diseased the only girl I’ve ever loved . . . the only girl who’ll ever fully own every piece of me.
Amber stills a moment, her demeanor switching from worried to vexed in under a second. “God has nothing to do with this. How dare you get mad at me, Brock. You’re the one who wanted this. The one who begged me to let us experience the multitude of pleasures this could bring. Not me!”
“Do you love him?” I ask, ignoring the truth behind her words, their sting, though one of the most brutal torments I’ve ever endured, not enough to shut me the fuck up. With images of them together branded in my mind, their undeniable chemistry is a flame I couldn’t put out even if I wanted to. “Is that what’s going on in that head of yours, Ber? Are you in love with him?”
She blinks, another breath-evaporating moment of silence encasing the rapid beating of my heart. “Do I . . . love him?”
“Yeah,” I croak out, a fear so dark, so overbearing, knifing through my muscles as I wait, with wired nerves, for her to reply. “That’s what I said, baby girl. Do. You. Love. Him?”
Eyes locked on mine, she shakes her head, her trembling voice so tiny—almost unrecognizable. “I don’t know how to answer that. I honestly don’t.” She touches tentative fingers to mine, the fear I thought I had seconds ago paling in comparison to the storm of dread ripping absolute devastation through me as she pulls her hand away, nervously knotting her fingers together in her lap. “All I know is I liked being with the two of you at the same time. Liked the way it made me feel. It was as if I was the only star existing in your universes, the last sun burning in your skies. The way you both broke me down, mentally and physically, was all you’d promised it’d be and so much more. I said it last night: there’s no way I can adequately express what it did to me.” She sucks in a slow breath, her gaze misting. “With all of that came . . . intense feelings for Ryder. Ones I can’t fully explain or even begin to understand.”