Falling Away (Fall Away #3) - Page 112/119

“So, I hear”—a man’s voice approached me from behind—“that you’re not with that guy anymore?”

I turned, seeing Madoc’s friend from the carnival. Adam.

That guy. Yeah. I closed my eyes and spun back around, embarrassed. I hadn’t really thought about my five-minute setup with Madoc’s friend, but after my disappearance in the fun house and reemergence with a half-naked Jax, I can’t imagine what I looked like to this guy.

Easy. That’s what I look like. I laughed to myself.

I tossed my warm, half-empty wine cooler away in the garbage can and grabbed another. “No,” I sighed. “I’m not with him.”

He stepped up to my side, taking the bottle out of my hands and twisting off the cap. “Good.” He looked at me, full of suggestion as he handed the bottle back.

I turned and leaned on the edge of the half-brick wall.

“And Madoc says you might be staying here in town for college,” he said, leaning on the wall next to me. “I’m in Chicago. If I were willing to drive back sometime, would you let me take you out?”

I let out a nervous laugh and looked away. “Believe me, I’m no fun right now.”

“Why?”

I chewed the corner of my lip, thinking. Yeah, why?

Because I liked the idea of being alone right now.

Because the thought of another guy touching me made me sick.

Because just then I looked up and saw Jax come through the sliding glass doors, and I stilled, feeling every hair on the back of my neck stand up.

He had just stepped through, his tall frame filling the space as Madoc hooked his neck and hollered over the music.

Both were smiling, and I noticed Jax’s friends—a small crowd—trailing him. Everyone had no doubt just finished at the Loop.

The heat outside escalated, making my white sundress stick to my body, and everything felt tight inside me. Watching him happy and talking to friends. Watching him carry on, not knowing I was here and falling apart because he was so close and yet too far away.

“Are you okay?” I heard Adam ask, and I blinked, coming to my senses.

Taking a deep breath, I gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry Madoc tried to set us up and wasted your time.” I stood up. “I don’t think I’m interested in seeing anyone for a while.”

“No relationship, then,” he shot out, shrugging. “Purely physical. It’ll be tough, but I can do that.”

I busted up laughing, shaking my head at him as he smiled.

“See you around, Adam.” I tipped my bottle at him and walked away.

I didn’t want to see Jax, and my friends were already drunk, so I just made my way back into the kitchen to grab a few things before I headed to my room.

Picking up my purse from the table, I dug out my phone and checked for any missed calls from my mom.

None. Hopefully she was still sleeping. I walked to the fridge for a bottle of water, thinking maybe I should’ve stayed the night with her. Maybe Madoc would let me take his car again.

“Adam,” the deep voice said, startling me. “He must be a good guy if Madoc is friends with him.”

I looked up, seeing Jax nod gently as he stood on the other side of the dark gray granite island with his T-shirt tossed over his shoulder.

I braced myself, turning away from his eyes as I slipped my phone back into my purse.

His slow footsteps fell behind me. “He looks like he comes from a good family.”

I focused on the cabinets ahead, speaking firmly. “What does someone who comes from a good family look like?”

Did he think he wasn’t good enough? Or that his baggage was too heavy? After everything he knew about me, that couldn’t be what he was worried about.

I felt him brush against my back, but he didn’t put his hands on me. His voice hovered everywhere, though. “Do you want him?” he asked in barely a whisper, and I winced.

Jesus.

“Yeah, I want him.” I swallowed the tears. “Five days ago I let you fuck me on a desk while I cried and told you I loved you, but I want him.”

Turning around, I locked eyes with him, unable to hide the pain I was feeling. He raised me up and then tore me down, and I knew it showed.

And then I dropped my eyes, noticing them. He’d pulled the T-shirt off his shoulder, and my composure broke. I let my stunned gaze wander over his naked chest, seeing the bite-mark tattoo on his neck and the script over his heart.

These violent delights have violent ends.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, remembering the words from Romeo and Juliet.

“I don’t care about anything that much.” He’d said that when I asked why he didn’t have tattoos, and now he had three. He had my bite marks.

I reached up to touch his face, but he pulled away from me, backing up.

His face looked so childlike, confused, and sad as if he didn’t know what move to make next. Then his stunning blue eyes blinked, and he finally looked up at me.

“Everything was real,” he rasped, his usual stone expression gone. “But he’d be better for you, Juliet. Anyone else would but me.”

He backed away and finally turned, walking out the patio doors, while I just stood there staring after him.

My face ached, and everything hurt. Everything, all at the same time. And I brought my hand back to my chest, trying to soothe my heart.

No more.

I set my bottle down and left the room, walking toward the stairs without even one glance back. I was going to bed, and then I was going to rebuild my life.