Page 16 of Bitter Lies

For a breathless moment, I take in the look, such pleasure anathema to me, before I close the door, my cheeks on fire, and lean against it, my heart pounding out of my chest.

Was this for my benefit? Another cruel maneuver to remind me of what I can’t have? He’s forever fucking punishing me, but I don’t know what for.

Now I have to face the dick eventually, knowing he knows I watched him get sucked off. I mean, could the universe throw me a fucking bone?

“Ohhh.”

Opening my eyes, where the image of Griffin’s face as he orgasmed are seared into my retinas, I spin to the door and lean my forehead against the wood once more.

“Yes, baby,” the chick squeals, and with a huff, I damn my life as Griffin proceeds to fuck her while I’m trapped in the fucking bathroom. Fucker.

Don’t guys need a recovery period or some shit?

“Ahh,” Griffin’s deep voice rings out, and I sigh, wishing for the billionth time that he wasn’t my weakness because even after everything that was said and cruelly done this evening, my chest still pulses with agony that it’s not me in there with him but some other chick.

Completely ridiculous, but there you go—I’m not taking crazy pills because I’m normal. After an interminable time later, in which I squirmed uncomfortably through the entire fiasco, the sounds end, and I peek out once more, sighing to find it finally empty.

I’m torn between hunting Griffin down and begging him to fuck me and kneeing him in the nads because although curiously warm at the spectacle I was forced to endure, I’m fucking enraged by his ridiculous and, frankly, juvenile behavior.

The party’s starting to die down, to my relief, but my slight adrenaline buzz from listening to Griffin fuck some bitch like a porn star drops when I spy him standing in the kitchen doing shots with Jason Macklemore.

The irony isn’t lost on me because my former best friend is standing in the kitchen celebrating with the guy who broke me—literally. And the sight makes my heart clench so painfully with despair that for a moment I can’t physically breathe.

Griffin’s eyes catch mine, and they darken as he searches my gaze before the expression disappears altogether, and he smirks, raising his glass to me and tossing it back.

Thankfully, Jason does the same with his back turned to me, but visions I can’t escape fly across my eyes anyway. The fucker is standing in the only sanctuary I’m supposed to have.

Try feeling safe now.

Miranda appears at Griffin’s side, and my eyes narrow because I’m tired of the fucking torment, and Griffin’s all too pleased with himself. You wanna play with me? Bring it.

Searching the crowd, I find the bimbo Griffin just fucked and approach her with a gleam in my eye as he watches me with furrowed brows from across the room.

Dropping down to whisper in her ear, I smile viciously when her head shoots to Griffin in the kitchen, a thrill rushing through me to find his glacial eyes on mine in a warning that I don’t heed.

His angry stare follows me back to my room, and raising my finger in salute, I lock myself inside, smiling when a commotion breaks out, and the sounds of two shrieking women emerge.

All of which fades at the remembrance of Jason fucking Macklemore standing in my kitchen.

With a sigh, I lie on the bed and shove my face into the pillow, screaming my rage into the soft downy fabric, but it does nothing to temper the feeling stinging my veins. Instead, I stare at the ceiling, resigned to another sleepless night.

Chapter Five

Who are you but the lies you tell?

Feeling strangely light after my therapy session on Monday morning, I sit down in class and pull out my things. Today we discussed ways to redirect my emotions, such as the urge to sleep the agony away, and it’s given me a direction I’m hoping will make a difference.

And for a moment, a brief moment, there’s a sense of peace I haven’t felt in a long time, but it melts when Griffin sits down beside me silently.

We haven’t spoken about his little show over the weekend, and despite my ire, I’m consumed with heat at the image of him orgasming on that chick’s face.

I’m sure he’s annoyed by my petty act of revenge, but I feel no remorse. Giving him a sideways glare, I huff but otherwise ignore him, gnashing my teeth when a cute girl sits next to him and proceeds to talk his ear off.

From the corner of my eyes, I watch as he smiles at her, and the slight curl to his lip sends a cascade of tingles down my spine in remembrance of that same look when he kissed me for the first and only time. Oh, how I loved that smile.

Clenching my fist on the desk, I turn blindly to the front and hope for a peace that’s long gone. This is why when Hogan sits down beside me, I turn to him desperately and, to his surprise, give him my best flirty smile.

It’s probably grotesque, but he’s a dude. All he sees are tits and ass, so he eats it up.

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