Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,78
words, of having her say them back.
Her hands band around my wrists, as if she needs to hold me in place as she takes a breath. “Back in college, the night your mom went to the hospital for the first time…it wasn’t Vi you slept with. It was me.”
I’m sure I’ve misheard. She can’t possibly be saying what I think she is. “What?”
“Vi and I fought that night. I wanted to know what it felt like to say, ‘Fuck it,’ so I put on her clothes and her makeup. I wasn’t trying to be her, at least not consciously, I just wanted to feel something.” Her fingers dig into my biceps, but I don’t move closer or away. It’s all I can do to breathe. “And while I was out looking for that, I found you.”
“I was torn up about—”
“Your mom,” she finishes softly. “After your dad left her.”
I swallow, but it’s hard. “No. I was with Vi. We went to my car.”
“My hair got caught in the door. You tugged it out,” Daisy murmurs.
No.
The events of the past days, weeks, months come tumbling down one after another, ending in a pile of broken expectations I can’t examine too closely.
“This doesn’t change anything,” she goes on, but angry denial rises.
“How do you figure? You lied to me. You pretended to be someone else.”
My emotion fuels hers, her dark-rimmed eyes flashing. “You assumed I was. I didn’t know until you… until we were already too far.”
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I force my brain to function, but every thought feels as if it takes every bit of my power to execute, given the feelings colliding in my chest. “I never touched you because I knew how messed up it would be. Never let myself look at you that way because of what happened with Vi.”
Shame fills her expression, and that makes it worse.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand.
“When it happened? We were drinking, Ben. It was a rough night for both of us.”
My mind goes back to that night, as it has more than once over the past years. The way I tortured myself over it, then but more so recently, when I knew I had feelings for my best friend.
I didn’t go looking for a girlfriend because I didn’t want to let anyone in and because the one woman I’d already let in, I couldn’t let myself have. “You could’ve said something. You should’ve.”
Her gaze narrows. “In the middle of Fortnite, I’d just say, ‘Want another drink? By the way, you didn’t fuck my sister that night. You fucked me’?”
“Yes.”
It sounds ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as what she’s admitting.
Daisy shakes her head. “Vi was gone, and there was nothing to be gained.”
“Maybe not. But there was sure as fuck something to be lost.” My gut twists sharply at the pain on her face.
“Ben… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But Vi had already left me, and I was afraid telling you might drive you away, too. Don’t let this come between us now. It’s been in the way long enough.”
I don’t answer.
Her lips open and close, as if for once, my brilliant friend can’t find the right words to say.
What finally comes out makes my heart stop.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say you love me?”
God, I want to drag her against me and forget all of this.
I want to tear out my hair, to curse myself for being so stupid, then and now.
That long ago night, we were both hurting. We needed something from one another and it was more than sex. It was comfort and understanding, and I have to deal with the fact that the person I thought I’d shared that moment with was the wrong person.
In reality, she was here all along. She was here, and if I’d known, I could’ve… what? Pursued something with her sooner? Stopped wondering if I’d done something wrong that night? Stopped telling myself it was wrong to have feelings for a woman whose sister I’d been with?
We’ve been pretending this entire month, but I thought we were on the same side. In reality, she's been lying for way longer.
I knew love was something designed to hurt, but I never realized the extent of it until my own pain and hers twine together into something worse, something I can’t disentangle.
“Say something,” Daisy implores.
My temples throb, every part of me aching. “I love you. And right now, I wish I didn’t.”