naked, taking our frustration out on one another, desperate to see where we’d end up when the dust settled. But then, after my head clears and her lingering scent leaves me, after the feel of her skin wears off on my fingertips, I think of what I said when we were done.
I think of those words I wish I could take back.
What kind of fuck-up puts a girl out on her ass after she finally lets her guard down? Well, me on many occasions, but … never someone like her.
Never someone who matters.
This revelation—that she’s someone who matters to me—has me feeling sick to my stomach and raging with denial. All because it’s become clear why I shot myself in the damn foot when it was over. Mostly, it’s because I’m my father’s son and I’m cursed with a condition called asshole-ism. But it’s more than that.
While you’d think it would be Vin’s warning about her that had me screwed up in the head, it was actually my own words that did me in. When Southside showed up that night, I made a bold statement. I told her the only way people like us find the truth is in bed. And … let’s just say I found it. In fact, the truth spoke so loud and clear as I peered up at her, the emptiness in the center of my chest began to fade. It was at this exact moment that I sabotaged any chance I had by pushing her away.
Because I’m a self-destructive ass, just like my father.
His claim about Southside using me to hurt him is never far from my mind, but after what I experienced with her, when the walls between us came down, I believe whatever hidden agenda she may have had is null and void.
That is, if it ever existed at all.
A heavy sigh leaves me. With it, an acknowledgement of how thoroughly I’ve screwed things up. Leave it to me to finally convince the girl to show me her heart … and then crush it.
“West,” Joss says a bit more calmly this time, reminding me I have yet to respond. “What aren’t you telling me?” she repeats.
I haven’t even carried this secret long and, already, it’s wearing on me. Never one to care much what others think of my actions, this time is different. While most of the assholes who reached out through text or DM are giving me props for the stunt they think I pulled, they’re nonfactors. What does piss me off is that this whole thing has caused those who actually count to see me in a different light. My brothers, Joss, my mom.
Don’t even get me started on that conversation. There are just some things a mother should never know about her son, certain things she should never witness her son doing. So, I think it’s safe to say I probably won’t be able to look her in the eyes again until my kids graduate.
“West?” Joss says again, using that scolding tone Dane loves and thinks of as foreplay.
Me? Not so fond of it.
“If I tell you, and you breathe a word of it to anyone, Joss, I’m ruined. Not only will my life crumble, but … someone else’s, too.”
I feel her studying me, but my eyes never leave the road.
“Okay,” she says solemnly. “You have my word.”
Breathing deep and second-guessing the hell out of what I’m about to do, I just go for it.
“It was Parker,” I confess, feeling my heart race twice as fast.
Joss stares, taking several deep breaths. That usually means she’s trying desperately to hold her tongue.
“She sent a vague text before we left for regionals. Then another after we got to the hotel.”
“Didn’t she get the hint when you ended things at the Monster Bash?” Joss asks.
“This is Parker we’re talking about,” I answer with a sigh.
“Oh, right. Facts.”
“At first, she did only want to talk about us, but when I didn’t say what she wanted to hear, and when I pressed her to tell me what was up with the cryptic text she sent, she finally got to her point.”
“Which was?”
I glance over at Joss before answering her question as simply as I can. “She wanted to know what happened with Casey.”
Hearing me speak that name, Joss’s brow quirks just as I glance her way. It isn’t a name we say out loud often because it’s one of those things best left in the past where it belongs.
“How on Earth would Parker, of all