Page 69 of How to Get Revenge on a Cheating Ex
“I’m not.” I blink and the screen comes into focus, and I immediately start scrolling again.
His laughter is a low rumble, and I swear sitting this close, I canfeelit.
He shifts, and I tense. I think he’s going to wrap an arm around my shoulders, but he stops so he’s half facing me and I’m forced to do the same or have him stare at the side of my face.
“What?” I say when he just stares at me in expectant silence.
“Want to tell me why you’re so freaked?”
I clamp my mouth shut and he sighs. But while his sigh is exasperated, he’s wearing this funny little smile and his eyes are soft with laughter.
That smile makes my heart squeeze and my belly takes a dive like I’ve just dropped into a freefall.
I turn my head to look at the TV again. “I don’t know,” I mumble. “It’s just...” I clear my throat. “It’s weird to be here like this.” I shrug. My brain feels sluggish and I can’t find the right words, so I settle for another easy explanation. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. Since we’ve hung out just the two of us, you know?”
He gives a short laugh. “Whose fault is that?”
I snap my head to the side to see his expression, because his tone...
There’s an edge there that I haven’t heard in a while. Not since before the conversation when he told me Grayson was cheating on me.
His expression gives nothing away, but his eyes aren’t so soft anymore, and that sexy little smile is back to being a smirk.
My brows come down because his question feels like a dig. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He rolls his eyes a little and now it’s his turn to face forward, like he’s suddenly interested in whatever movie it is I’ve landed on. I’ve lingered on it for so long the trailer is playing in the background, but I barely notice.
My heart’s starting to pound too quickly, and I can’t tell if it’s anxiety or anger or...something else that has my pulse racing.
“Zack?” I prompt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He throws his hands up, clearly annoyed now. “I don’t know, just...” He turns and his gaze collides with mine. “Whose fault is that?” he repeats. “We used to hang all the time.”
Before Grayson. That’s what he means. And just like that, my stomach churns with guilt because I’m remembering Toni’s accusations.
I never reallystoppedthinking about what Toni said to me the other day.
I mean, aside from her comment about Grayson cheating on me from day one, I keep thinking about her take on how our friendship ended. I hate that she saw it that way. And not just because I hate being the bad guy—although, I do. I can admit that.
But more than that, I hate that I hurt her, whether it was intentional or not.
And itwasn’tintentional. I mean, I can see it from her point of view, I guess. But it wasn’t like I’d ever meant to leave her behind. It just sort of...happened. Grayson’s social life became my social life. His friends became my friends.
It’s a crappy excuse, but it’s the truth. It wasn’t intentional. I hadn’tmeantto be a selfish jerk back then.
But then…does anyonereallyset out to be a self-absorbed asshat?
Probably not. I doubt most people mean to be selfish and hurtful.
I’ve been reliving that time in my life non-stop lately—usually when I’m supposed to be sleeping, and…and she was right. I hadn’t invited her along with Grayson’s crew. I told myself Toni wouldn’t have fit in at the kind of parties Grayson had been taking me to—that she would’ve been miserable.
But I can’t remember a single time I’d let her decide that.
And maybe...maybe I’d been worried that Grayson would be annoyed if I’d asked her to tag along. Or...
Or maybeIwould have been embarrassed.
I shut my eyes as a wave of guilt and shame washes over me and leaves me weak. I owe Toni an apology. A real one.
