Four Letter Word - Page 49/133

He was swaying a hard right into Suck Land, where he hated me, the photo, and was most likely regretting all those orgasms.

I felt sick and gripped my dresser for support.

“Um …” I stammered, swallowing hard. “I was thinking I’d send you a photo, of me, you know, since I hadn’t yet. That’s me in that photo.”

“No shit,” he growled. “What I’m asking right now is, what are you thinking sending it to me?”

“I was thinking I wanted you to see it,” I answered honestly.

He exhaled slowly then spoke, still sounding pissed off but doing it softer.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

My stomach unclenched, only to lurch and twist uncomfortably.

He wasn’t attracted to me.

I closed my eyes and whispered, “I know.”

“You know,” he echoed unconvincingly.

“You don’t like it. You …it’s not what you thought I’d look like and you’re wishing you never would’ve seen it.” I shifted over to stare at my reflection in the mirror. I suddenly felt the farthest from pretty. “That’s why you’re mad.”

“You don’t know,” was all he replied, and he said it firmly. Resolutely.

“What?”

“You. Don’t. Know.”

“What are you saying?” I asked.

“I’m saying, the reason I’m pissed isn’t because I was sent a photo of a gorgeous girl, my gorgeous girl, and I wasn’t liking what I was looking at. That ain’t it. You’re beautiful, Syd. Knew it before I saw the photo and that opinion damn sure hasn’t changed now that I have seen it. If anything, it’s become more solid.”

My stomach wasn’t lurching and twisting anymore. Those pesky little butterflies were back, enjoying their favorite flip and twist.

My gorgeous girl.

Oh, wow.

Brian totally just called me his girl.

And he thinks I’m gorgeous!

I wet my lips, careful of my color.

“Okay,” I replied gently.

“What I am pissed about is the fact you sent that photo to me.”

I cocked my head in the mirror.

I was officially confused.

He liked the photo, thought I was gorgeous in it, but he was mad I sent it to him?

Why would he be mad? He liked it.

“You lost me there,” I admitted. “Why are you pissed again?”

“You ever meet me, Wild?”

“Um, in person? Or—”

“Yeah, in fucking person, you know, to verify I’m not some psycho looking to find out where you live so I can kidnap you and do all kinds of messed-up shit, ’cause there’s people out there in this world who are like that, babe, and sending your photo to a guy you’ve never physically met is probably the dumbest fucking move ever. You don’t know me.”

Okay, that hurt. I didn’t think it was a dumb move.

And he was wrong.

Next to Tori, Brian had become the most important person in my life. We spoke daily, sometimes multiple times a day, for hours and hours.

I knew him.

“You’re not a psycho, Brian,” I said, stepping back and waiting until I felt cotton comforter against my legs before I sat down on the bed. “And I do know you.”

“No, you don’t,” he argued, his voice rising. “You don’t know me, Syd. You’ll never fucking know me. I’m a voice to you. That’s it. I could be anybody.”

“No you couldn’t!”

My own voice shook now. I could feel the tears threatening, I was so angry and confused.

Why was he saying this?

“You’re not anybody, Brian. You’re you. I sent that photo to you, not just anybody. We’ve talked every day for the past month.”

“And that’s all we’re ever gonna do, don’t you get that?”

“Why?” I practically shouted, grateful for the closed door. “Why is that all? Why should that be all? Is it, do you think I won’t like how you look? Is that it? Because I would. I know I would.”

“Christ,” he groaned. “That is the farthest thing from it, okay? I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what is it?”

I was becoming agitated now. He wasn’t the only one getting pissy and ruining the mood.

“What is it, Brian?” I pressed, teeth clenched.

“I don’t want to know you! I can’t, all right?”

Breath pulled from my lungs as if someone were sucking it straight out of me.

I blinked at a knob on my dresser, body stilled. Deadened.

He didn’t want to know me.

God …that hurt.

Worse than Marcus pulling away. How was that possible?

My head snapped right when Tori knocked sharply on the door.

“You ready?” she called from behind it.

“Fuck, Wild,” Brian breathed in my ear, heavy and sad sounding. “I didn’t mean it like that. Okay? That’s not—”

“I’m done talking to you right now,” I cut him off and stood, walking over to my shoes and stepping into them. “I need to finish getting ready for the Lady Gaga concert, and Tori is ready so I need to finish now. You don’t want the picture I sent? Delete it. Problem solved.”

I bent down and slid the straps behind my heels.

He was being a total jerk. I didn’t like it one bit.

Tori knocked again.