Page 80 of Kylo
And something cold overtook me, something hard, something I didn’t even recognize.
Only then was I able to get back to my life.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kylo
“You can’t stay in here forever,” Velle said after opening the door without waiting for me to say he could come in.
He was usually someone who respected boundaries.
Then again, I was usually someone who came out of my room to eat, shower, work, and socialize.
It’d been three days, and I’d barely done anything but stare at my ceiling and beat myself up over everything that had happened.
“Wanna bet?”
Velle ignored that.
“You gotta come out. For no other reason than this place is gonna need to be fumigated if you don’t take a shower soon.”
He was exaggerating.
Not that I cared if I rotted in my own filth.
I had that coming.
Then I’d be just as scummy outside as I felt inside.
“What do you want, Velle? Huck send you in here?”
“Nah, you know Huck,” he said, leaning in the doorway. “He’s got that dad vibe. He figures if you want to be a bitch then we should leave you alone to be that.”
I snorted at that.
“He can be a dick sometimes, but I think we both know he actually does care.”
“Sure.” I sounded anything but sure about that, though.
“To be fair, Kylo, did you even tell him you had feelings for the girl?”
“Not in that many words.”
“And you thought that he was the mind-reading, emotionally intelligent sort?”
“Even if he knew, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“I think you underestimate Huck. He’s dealt with a lot of shit brought about by the women the men of this club fall for. He would have found a way around this if he knew you cared about Rue like that.”
“There was no way around this. It was too late the first time I opened my mouth and lied to her.”
“I think we both know it was over the second you put your hands on her,” he clarified. “She probably would have understood up to that point.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Yet as much as I regretted the shocked betrayal on her face, the way she barked at Huck that I better not show up in her life again, I couldn’t bring myself to regret what we’d shared in that hotel.
Maybe that was selfish.
