Page 36 of Meet Me in the Vines
“What are you doing? Why are you stopping? Don’t you want me?” I whimper, slightly offended.
There’s pain in his eyes and he lets out a groan, taking a half step back to put some space between us. Well, fuck that, I don’t want space. I take my heels and drag him into me again, making him laugh. I smile at his beautiful face and those irresistible dimples.
“I’ve never wanted you more. You’re so fucking beautiful. I missed these lips so much.” His thumb swipes my bottom lip, and he tips my chin up to meet his gaze. “Tonight, we will have this kiss. You’re drunk, and I don’t want to take advantage of you.” Oh, now he wants to be a gentleman? Take the high road?
Fuck that. I’m pissed now.
“Donovan, I’m begging you to fuck me and now you’re trying to be the good guy and nottake advantage of me?”I say the last part sarcastically with air quotes. Rage floods my senses. I let the word vomit flow before I can stop myself. “You know, you fucked me before and got what you wanted. At least this time, if you never speak to me again, I won’t be so fucked up about it. Iexpectit,” I seethe. I know it’s mean, but I’m mad and drunk and Donovan King won’t give me an orgasm.
“Audrey, you’re angry with me and I deserve that. But please, let me take you home where you can sleep it off. I’ll explain everything tomorrow, if you’ll let me?”
I scoff and push him off of me, sliding off the tailgate of his truck.
“I don’t believe a word you say, Donovan. You’re a liar and a fake. You missed your chance to get in my pants and that’s the last opportunity you’lleverget.” I’m walking in a not-so-straightline back toward the coffee shop when he grabs my wrist, gentle but firm.
“Mouse—”
I grunt in frustration and push him in the chest.
“Ugh! Don’t fucking call me that anymore! Youhurtme, Donovan. You took away my virginity, and you fuckingleftme there thinking that night meant something more to you!” He opens his mouth to say something, but I hold my hand up to his face. “No! I’m talking. You used me and then never spoke to me again. I waited for you and you didn’t even have the decency to call or text or, god forbid, break it off in person! You told me you wanted me. You wanted the summer together. You said all of those things. And you FUCKED up!” I’m yelling and crying, letting the wine fill me with liquid courage as I empty the anger I’ve had towards him for the last decade.
“What was it, Donovan? Huh? Was I just one of your trophies to brag to your friends? Did someone dare you to fuck me? Did you lie about your virginity too?” My thoughts are like a fast-moving train, obliterating anything in the way, no brakes.
I can see him grind his molars as his jaw flexes. His eyes shimmer under the reflection of the streetlight above us.
“It wasn’t just a quick high school fuck for me, Donovan. That night changed my life. Youtookmy innocence. And you were too much of a pussy to man the fuck up and tell me the truth.”
He just stands there, hands on his hips, taking every word I spit at him like a knife to the heart.
“So, no. You will not get the opportunity to explain because you’re ten years too fucking late. I’m done, Donovan. Stay away from me, I mean it.” I stand there, crying, trying to catch my breath after unleashing this swirling whirlwind of rage I’ve kept locked inside me for too long.
His silence is so loud. I thought I’d feel relieved, but I feel worse than before. When his eyes lock onto mine, a single tearfalls down his cheek, shattering my heart into tiny fragments all over the parking lot. He trudges to his truck, the gravel crunching under his boots, ignites the engine and pulls away.
I’m nothing but a reflection in his rearview mirror, crumbling to the ground as sobs rack my entire body.
Chapter Eleven
DONOVAN
I stand in a lonely corner of the Winthrop estate, my eyes scanning around the vast living room filled with people in mourning. A testament to how loved Violet was. Or is. It’s jarring to see everyone dressed in black, only driving the stake further into my heart that Violet is truly gone. The funeral was exactly what she would’ve wanted. Short, sweet, and to the point. There was no bullshitting with Violet, and I loved her for it.
“Can I get you something to drink, D?” Wyatt asks, squeezing my shoulder with a soft smile. The corner of my lip turns up slightly before I reply, “Sure, Wy. I’ll take a glass of the Pinot. Thanks.” He nods and walks past me. I keep my eyes fixed on Audrey as she stands at the front of the house, giving hugs to all the guests, offering their condolences. She avoided me for the entire funeral, rightfully so. She’s avoiding me now.
“I’m done, Donovan. Stay away from me, I mean it.”
I take a deep inhale as her words from last night ring in my ears. Every piece of my heart shattered the moment I drove away from her. I deserved her anger. I deserved her reaction. I didn’t think I could stop myself the moment we kissed. The way her body fit against mine like she’s the missing piece to the broken puzzle of my soul. She told me to stay away, but I need to explainmyself. I need her to know how sorry I am. I feel a dull thud in my temples, frustration building inside of me. The gravity between Audrey and me is too strong. I can’t avoid it if I tried. I feel myself being pulled into her orbit, one foot trailing in front of the other.
Wyatt steps in front of me, offering my glass of wine with a swirl. I grasp it, immediately missing Audrey’s pull. He glances over his shoulder, his eyes locking on Audrey before bringing them back to mine. “So, what’s going on between you two?” he probes, lifting his eyebrow as he sips his wine. I shake my head and take a generous sip. “I fucked up. Again.” My chest clenches at the sight of Audrey over Wyatt’s shoulder. Her smile is one of grief, the kind that you put on when you feel numb inside. I know the feeling. God, I just wanna hold her, tell her everything is going to be okay.
Even with swollen eyes from crying, I’m in awe of her beauty. My gaze snaps back to Wyatt, who is about to say something when our father approaches us. Wyatt flits his eyes between Dad and me. “Um, I’m gonna make sure Kerry isn’t eating all the deviled eggs,” he says awkwardly before walking away. My eyes roll slightly at his exit, leaving us alone to make awkward conversation.
“Hi, Son. How are you holding up?” my father asks, his hands buried in his pockets while he uncomfortably sways back and forth on his heels. I sigh. “I’m fine, Dad.” He shifts his gaze slightly toward Audrey, deep in conversation with Mrs. Dickson. He clears his throat before bringing his attention back to me.
“I, uh… I noticed that you’ve been avoiding Audrey. Is…everything okay?” he drawls. Jesus, why does he have to make this so awkward? Since when does he care about Audrey? Since when does he care about whether I talk to her? My jaw ticks at his probing, heat flaring under a dress shirt that’s too starchy and uncomfortable as it is.
I chug the rest of my wine, swirling it in my mouth before I swallow. “Yeah, well, she won’t talk to me,” I clip. “And you made fucking sure of that, didn’t you?”
My dad gives me a pained look, like I’d just snapped his olive branch in half. When I look at him, all I see is anger and hurt for what he did to me. What he did toAudrey and me. I recall my conversation with Wyatt yesterday morning, briefly tearing my gaze away from my dad.
