Page 127 of Things I Wish I Said
“Ryleigh, truth or dare,” Cameron asks, pulling us from our stare-off.
“Pick truth,” I say before she has a chance to speak.
Sinclair’s brows rise. “What?” she asks as if she heard me wrong.
“Pick. Truth,” I say between gritted teeth. The last thing I fucking need is anyone daring her to make out with Trent or Cameron, because if that happens, I might lose my fucking shit. “Please,” I whisper.
“Fine.” She sighs, turning back to him. “Truth.”
Cameron frowns, his gaze flicking between us, then settling on me. “Have you hooked up with anyone at this lake?”
Ryleigh’s throat bobs. “Yes.”
I fight a smirk as Cameron’s eyes narrow, and graciously answer his unspoken question with a shrug.
This time it’s Ryleigh’s turn to ask, which means I can relax a little knowing she’s out of the line of fire. “Rachel, truth or dare.”
I freeze, and if Rachel’s wide-eyed gaze is any indication, she’s just as surprised Ryleigh chose her as I am. I want to ask her what the hell she’s doing.
“Truth,” she answers.
“Are you in love with Grayson?”
My jaw drops, and I wonder if this is some way to get back at me for making her pick truth.
Across from me, Rachel’s mouth parts. She glances at me, cheeks flushing in the firelight, and I have to give her credit, her gaze never wavers as she stares me dead in the eyes and says, “Yes.”
I close my eyes, cursing under my breath as my nostrils flare.
I don’t need this right now.
The last thing I want is Rachel getting it in her head there’s a chance for us when there’s not.
Another couple rounds pass while I try to avoid her eye, fuming as someone says my name.
I glance toward the sound to find Ryan staring at me. “Truth or dare, man,” he asks.
I cast him a warning look, which he ignores as I say, “Dare.”
“Kiss Rachel.”
I stare at him, jaw locked.
I want to scream like a banshee, shout at the top of my lungs and ask him if he’s fucking serious, but based on the way he’s staring at me, I know he is, and I don’t even need to ask why. His meddling has a purpose. The boys all think I never got over her. Little do they know that couldn’t be further from the truth. Yeah, maybe I still resent her for the way she broke up with me. It was cold and heartless, at a time when I needed her most. But I recovered from any heartbreak a long time ago. If anything, I’m grateful, because Rachel, along with my father, taught me a valuable lesson. Love doesn’t last and fairy tales don’t fucking exist.
My nostrils flare as I stand, but instead of crossing the distance to Rachel, I reach down and cup Ryleigh’s face in my hands, swallowing the small gasp in the back of her throat when I crush my mouth to hers.
It’s been a week since I touched her like this. A week since I’ve had my hands on her, but it feels like years, and my body hasn’t forgotten. Every nerve ending comes alive. My skin heats. Mymouth picks right up where we left off in her bedroom the day her mother barged in, and it feels a hell of a lot like the rush of sliding home.
My hands glide down her sides, moving to her waist and guiding her to her feet. I yank her to me, so our bodies are flush, allowing my fingers to skirt the hem of her shirt, where I connect with a sliver of hot, smooth skin while my mouth slants against hers.
My tongue darts into her mouth, tasting her and taking the kiss from languid to heated in an instant.
I bite her lower lip and she moans, fisting her hands in the front of my shirt.
The thudding of my heart feels like applause as everything around us fades until the only thing that remains is her and me and my anger.
I’m pissed that I’m jealous. Pissed at Sinclair for even looking at Cameron when I’m the only one she should want.
