Page 30 of Bitter When He Begs

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. Just this brittle, bitter thing that barely sounds human. “I’m fine,” I mutter.

“Bullshit,” he says instantly. “You’ve got murder in your eyes and your neck looks like someone tried to strangle you with their mouth. Tell me what happened.”

I collapse back onto my bed, arms over my eyes, but I’m shaking again. “Luca happened.”

“That fucking quarterback—”

“He cornered me at my car.”

“Please tell me you kicked him in the balls.”

I let out a breath that sounds like it’s been poisoned. “No. I let him kiss me. Again.”

Silence.

Then Nate’s voice takes on a dangerous edge. “He touch you without permission?”

I sit up, my throat raw. “No. That’s the problem. I wanted it. I always fucking want it.”

Nate’s jaw clenches, but I continue.

“But then he pulls back and acts like it’s my fault. LikeI’mthe reason he’s obsessed. LikeI’msome itch he can’t scratch andIshould apologize for it.”

Nate’s already moving, pacing like he’s deciding whether to break something or someone. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

I snort. “Yeah? Get in line.”

“I’m serious.”

“Don’t bother.”

He stops pacing. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not worth it.” I drag both hands through my hair and laugh again—ugly this time. “I’m not gonna let him do this to me. Not again. I’m gonna find my own distraction.”

Nate’s brow furrows. “What the hell does that mean? What kind of distraction?”

“It means I’m not sitting around waiting for him to get out of my head,” I snap. “If he wants to fuck around and pretend none of this matters, then fine. So can I.”

He sees the look on my face and groans. “Sage, no.”

“Sage,yes,” I sing under my breath, dragging my hoodie off and tossing it on the bed. “Time to remind that smug bastard that he doesn’t own me. Or my mouth. Or anything else.”

Nate doesn’t argue. He just watches me for a beat, then exhales through his nose. “You know I’ve got your back, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You want me to help you burn down his life, I’m in.”

I nod once. “I’ll let you know.”

He leaves a few minutes later. And I lie there, staring at the ceiling, pulse still too fast, my neck still stinging from the hickey Luca left like it’s a collar.

Fuck him.

I’m done playing his game.

Luca

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