Page 923 of One More Kiss

I ran my hand through my hair and gripped the back of my neck.

“That’s okay. I can explain,” Victoria cut in again. “This is Tate. The girl your friend has been fucking with. They met at bereavement therapy and—"

“Wait. What?” It was Nate’s turn to interrupt.

Fuck. My. Life.

“You go to therapy, bro? For what?” Luca looked at me without judgment, but the pity in his eyes wasn’t something I wanted to see.

“For what?” Victoria scoffed.

I was done. “Just shut the fuck up, all right. You have no fucking right.” My voice was deep and menacing, and it caught everyone’s attention within a ten-foot radius. I didn’t care. I was seeing red. I stood up and leveled in on this Vee chick. “You need to stay in your fucking lane. Yes, Tate and I know each other, but—”

“But what?” Tate’s soft voice found my heart amid the chaos and nearly shattered it.

But my walls were already back up, and I just couldn’t. All of this, the scene, the confrontation, it was too much. “I’m not doing this.” I blew passed all of them and made my way outside. I knew I had a habit of running from my problems, but it had saved me more times than I could count.

I was about to call an Uber since I still didn’t have my license back, but I needed some air, so I started to walk. Fast and hard. I couldn’t help but look behind me, wondering if anyone would follow. I knew the guys wouldn’t; I’d hoped Tate would, but she didn’t.

I ran straight to my dorm without stopping, and an hour later, I was locking myself inside my room. The empty pill bottle was still on the floor. I needed a refill. I hated going through all the yearly bullshit of a re-evaluation normally, but right now, I wasn’t in the right headspace for any of it.

Without my meds, the next best thing I had to cope with was my music, so I popped in my headphones and paced the room. I shuffled the playlist, which was now a combination of songs I’d picked and she’d picked. Of course, it went to one she had picked first. One she’d told me about the day at the lake. And I’d still yet to listen to it. It was called “One Day” by Tate McRae.

I clenched my jaw as the soft music poured over me. It was sweet and acoustic and gut-wrenchingly vulnerable. And I fell the fuck apart.

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