trying to figure out if he was really there or if I was dreaming. When I moved to sit up, Adrian reached out an arm and helped me, then sat on the couch beside me. As I inhaled his scent—something musky and warm—I realized it wasn’t a dream, which meant I’d really buried my father that day.
That one thought made tears come again. The next thing I knew, Adrian was holding me in his lap, big arms wrapped around me, mumbling incoherent things in my ear as he attempted to settle me down. For long minutes, it didn’t work—my already shattered heart had cracked once again, and the dam had broken; the tears wouldn’t stop.
And they continued, right up until … until Adrian kissed me.
“Hey, Pres? Where’d you go?”
I pulled myself from my reverie to see Adrian staring down at me, that panty-melting smirk still on his face. Rather than follow the urge to smack it clean off, I smiled back.
“What did you need?” I asked, sitting up straight.
“Just checkin’ in,” he answered nonchalantly, as though the last time I’d seen him I hadn’t punched him right in that smart mouth. Needless to say, our breakup had not been amicable, and in the months since, we had not become friends. “The band’s taking a break, so I’m home for a bit. On my way to see Gav; figured I’d check on you while I was in the neighborhood.”
“That was sweet.” Not. “And now that you’ve checked, you should go away.” I had no intention of bringing up the fact that Gavin had wanted the three of us to go out. That would’ve been stupid since I was hoping Gavin had forgotten all about it.
For a brief moment, Adrian looked at me as though he were sorry for all the pain he’d caused me in the past. Only I knew better, because if Adrian Dennis had given two shits about me, he wouldn’t have made me take the fall for our relationship’s fiery demise.
“Come on, babe. Seriously, you’re not still mad at me, are you? It’s been, what … two years since we broke up?”
One year, actually, not that I was going to clarify that. It was stupid that I’d even kept track of the passing months. I wasn’t in love with Adrian, never had been, but he’d helped me through a tough time in my life, and I’d latched on to that, mistaking it for something more than it was.
“Nope, not mad,” I said, grabbing the pencil from the counter and beginning to sketch on the piece of paper in front of me.
“Gav said you’re havin’ a hard time with the drawing. Anything I can do?”
I slowly lifted my eyes to his, fighting the impulse to roll them. “Yeah,” I said. “You can leave.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender and took a step back. “All right, babe. I’ll give you some space, and I’ll let Gav know I checked in.”
“You do that,” I muttered, turning my attention back to the piece of paper in front of me as he backed out the door.
When I heard the jingle of the bell, I looked up to confirm he was gone and let out a sigh of relief.
That man… There were times that I wanted to throttle him. He was an asshole. A lying, cheating, ass-fucking, self-centered asshole.
“Ughh!” I broke the pencil in my hand when the memories came back with a vengeance.
The last thing I wanted to think about was how I’d ended up in bed with Adrian, allowing him to take away the pain for a few hours, to keep my mind and my body occupied. He’d done it, though, and the next thing I’d known, weeks had passed, and I’d somehow ended up in a relationship with my best friend’s older brother.
I still remembered when Gavin had figured it out. He’d been angry and worried, tried to convince me that I deserved better, that Adrian would break my heart. Although Adrian wasn’t a bad guy, he was a player, and I knew that as well as anyone.
And through those eight months, I’d worried day in and day out whether Adrian would cheat until the day that he had.
Unfortunately, I was the only one who knew that. Well, me and Adrian and the two whores I’d found him in bed with. Everyone else—especially my best friend—thought that I’d been the one to break things off.
It had been the only way I knew to save my relationship, as well as