Page 68 of Endgame

Most regrettable night of her life?

Fuck me.

She couldn’t have hit me harder if she stabbed me in the chest.

“Fine,” I said flatly, feeling wounded. “You weren’t worth remembering anyway.

Rourke

SIX TOLD ME TO forget about her. She wanted me to forget about what had happened between us the other night. She’d been avoiding me ever since.

I had too much pride in me to complain or tell her I thought otherwise.

Besides, I didn’t need the complications that came with messing around with my stepsister.

Tell me you love me.

Those words had haunted me every minute since I left her room on Thursday night.

Six had thrown me.

Fuck thrown me; she’d knocked me on my ass with that request. Had she not asked that of me, I was certain I would have fucked her in a dozen different positons that night and every night since.

I wanted her so damn badly I could hardly focus on much else. But her immediate regret had burned and was the founding reason I dialed Britt’s number tonight.

I needed familiar.

I needed no strings.

I needed anyone but Six.

Mercedes

I SPENT ALL DAY FRIDAY avoiding Rourke. Thankfully, I had to work a double shift which got me out of the house for most of the day. However, Alec was in a horrible mood for most of it which sucked big, fat donkey balls. I was so used to happy-go-lucky Alec that I wasn’t prepared for the cranky asshole Alec I was greeted with. Yeah, that version of my boss was a douche.

All day, my thoughts were seized by the beautiful bastard who slept in the bedroom next to mine. The moment I had laid eyes on Rourke Owens, Iknewhe was going to be trouble for me. I should have listened to my gut when it screamed warning after warning at me; instead I had listened to my heart and my stupid teenage hormones.

And now?

Now I was in over my head, drowning in feelings I had no idea how to deal with.

Rourke wasn’t for me. He was wrong. All fucking wrong. My brain knew it; I just needed the rest of me to get with the program.

He was my stepbrother, dammit. His father was married to my mother. Getting myself involved with him would be all kinds of crazy, and I didn’t need the trouble that came with a guy like him.

Besides, he was back to being mad at me again.

The way Rourke was treating me now only assured me that I did the right thing by stopping it from going any further the other night. He was back to being cold and indifferent, ignoring me when I walked into the same room as him.

Knowing Rourke wasn’t affected by what happened between us Thursday night, and was quite content to party it up with his buddies, well that upset me more than I cared to think about.

I decided that I should feel glad that he was avoiding me. After all, he was only doing what I asked him to do.Forget it ever happened.

I didn’t care anyway.

I hated Rourke Owens.

I hated him almost as much as I hated myself for pushing himaway.

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