Page 110 of Spin The Bottle
Leila.
I turn down the speed as I look at her. I haven’t seen her since she was outside my doorstep, crying over how I broke her heart.
My eyes trace down her body. A body I once had my hands all over, kissing her, telling her how beautiful she was to me. I hate that she thinks everything between us was a lie. It was nothing but the truth. Being with her was the easiest thing in the world.
She looks so good. Her long brown hair is tied up, allowing me to see every inch of her face. A face I once held onto and kissed with so much love. My eyes trace her lips, remembering how sweet she tastes, how good her kisses felt. And when she turns her head and those beautiful green eyes lock on mine, my heart races out of my chest.
Fuck, I miss her.
And I love her.
But I’ve lost her.
I see it in the way her lips part and her eyes widen with shock, only for a second before her features contort with hurt. I know at that moment that she’s done with me. And when she stops the machine, twisting her head and grabs her bags off the floor like she can’t run away any faster, I step off the treadmill, heading towards her before she can leave.
Just one touch. Just my hands grabbing onto her elbow and my heart soars. My body breaks out into goosebumps from one touch. I am so fucking in love with this girl. She sucks in a breath when she feels me and steps back, staring at me with wide eyes. All I want to do is touch her and pull her into me. I just want to look into her eyes and tell her how much I love her.
I should have said it before. I should have told her the minute I fell in love with her because shouting it across the street when she was bawling her eyes out was the hardest thing I’ve had to do.
I didn’t want to tell her I loved her to keep her. I wanted to tell her I loved her when I knew she was mine and when I was certain she’d feel the same for me.
“Don’t leave,” I tell her, my throat constricting with the words. “I’ll go, Leila.”
It’s the first time I’ve spoken to her since that day. I just wish it wasn’t this that I had to say. There’s so much I want to say to her.
She doesn’t say anything to me, her face stricken with anger, lips pursed as she stares back at me. I wish I could pause this moment, just to have her eyes on me for a second longer before I have to leave and never look at her again.
“I’m sorry.” I take a step closer to her and she takes a step back, away from me, sucking in a breath. I let my head drop. “I’m so fucking sorry.” I turn around and turn off the treadmill, walking out of the gym, with my heart back there clutched in her hands.
I’ve barely opened my front door when my phone buzzes in my pocket and when I see the name on the screen… I’m done. I’m fucking done.
Putting up with some guy blackmailing me, living in constant fear someone is going to find out my secret, giving up the woman I love, and all for what? To protect my family who never gave a shit about me?
There is no other reason he’s calling. He doesn’t care about me, he wants nothing but money.
When I answer the call, my stomach is riddled with guilt, knowing what I’m about to do, but I’ve lived in constant debt and I’m sick of it. I know if I don’t put an end to it, it will never end.
“Listen, I need—”
“It’s over.”
A silence ticks and then he laughs. “What?”
My hands clutch my phone tighter. “This little arrangement we had? It’s over. I’m not sending you any more money.”
“What about Mom?” he asks, a bite to his tone. “Jerry’s back. I can’t leave her.”
This excuse has gone on for way too long. Jerry hasn’t been back in years, why would he be back now? “I thought you two handled him?” I ask my brother once again. “You told me you handled it. What exactly did you mean?” Silence. My brother is never silent. “What did you do, Brandon?”
“You wanted him gone, didn’t you?” he yells, my bones chilling at the sound. “You wanted him out of our lives, out of Mom’s life, and now he is.”
My spine chills, a shiver running up it when I catch onto what he’s telling me. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“We got it handled.”
My body relaxes at the thought of Jerry not being alive, like knowing he can’t hurt anyone ever again brings me peace, but it also makes my brain race a million miles per second. “So you’ve been lying to me?” My throat clams up. “You’ve been telling me he’s back to get money out of me?” Another stab to the back. One after another, after another. “You used Jerry against me, knowing it’s a sore subject.” There are times that I can’t get the image out of my head, and my brother knows this. He knows how much it fucked me up.
“You wouldn’t give us our money.”
