Page 19 of Bitter Lies

The reminder of my confession is a low blow, mainly because he threw it back in my face like yesterday’s trash, but I screw my expression into nonchalance and turn to say, “I guess I was wrong. You weren’t the one, after all.”

I don’t wait around for a response, and I refuse to entertain his cold-as-fuck expression as I hightail it to class and miss the entire lecture for the brooding I can’t hold back.

Why does Griffin care about Jason anyway? He as much as pushed me into Jason’s arms, and now he’s all caught up in the aftermath?

Unless he still thinks I’m about to off myself over the jerk. Ugh. What a nightmare. I’m not sure which is worse—him thinking I killed myself at all or that he thinks I did it over Jason.

Well, if there’s a silver lining, it’s that he doesn’t believe me about loving him anymore. Maybe that pathetic piece of me can reform out of the garbage of this fucking nightmare.

∞∞∞

I force myself to get out of bed the following morning, recognizing the pull of desire that wants me to stay there and wallow, but it will be that much harder to get out of bed tomorrow if I give in.

Griffin’s assertions about me rolled around in my head all night and into this morning, making sleep nothing but a wish, especially when he started up fucking someone last night around 11:00 p.m.

The unbelievable gall to accuse me of sleeping with our professor as he mounts someone in his room isn’t lost on me. Besides, gross. I would never ever sleep with the dude who knows my worst secrets. And I’m still baffled by his statements surrounding Jason.

Since it’s still warm enough to swim, I don a suit and head out back, rationalizing that this is exercise and getting out of bed is enough for today. I’ll go back to my walks tomorrow.

The pool is heated, which is nice, and I dip below the surface, floating briefly before turning into a swimmer’s stance and gliding from one end to the next.

I used to contemplate joining the team in school because swimming is natural to me—I’m a true water baby—but all that fell out the window when I lost my way. I just didn’t have the heart for it.

Frankly, I didn’t have the motivation for anything, and in my weaker moments, I wonder if I wasn’t headed for the padded room long before that night. Perhaps that was just the final straw?

Still, slicing through the water is soothing and allows me to think, to which I studiously ignore anything to do with Griffin and contemplate my studies. I already feel behind, and this despite my best efforts, but some days concentrating is more challenging than I thought it would be.

I don’t think the meds help with that, but I’m sure I’d be shot down right quick if I mentioned not taking them. Some days it feels as though I’m walking through a mental fog, and I can’t decide if it’s better or worse than the alternative.

What I wouldn’t give for a break from my fucking life.

Emerging from the water with a gasp, I spy Griff standing at the edge, staring down at me with a mercurial expression before he says gruffly, “C’mon, let’s get started on our assignment.”

“Now? We have all semester,” I grumble.

I was still hoping to find my way out of this, and his insistence is causing no small amount of anxiety.

“I’m not going to have time with my other classes, and I have to keep my grades up,” he grunts.

How is this my problem?

With a long-suffering sigh, I pull myself up the steps and grab my towel, turning when I hear Griffin huff behind me.

But my annoyance at his perennial impatience pops like a balloon when I find his eyes eating up my form hungrily, the hazel orbs bright with appreciation.

Immediately, my nipples pebble in my bikini, and my limbs fail me as my breath leaves me in a whoosh, and mortifyingly, I trip over my own feet.

Griffin steps forward and catches me to him, pulling me against the glory that is his chest, and I gasp when his heavy erection presses against my stomach, both surprised and aching at the revelation.

Well, that and only two thin pieces of fabric exist between him and me—thoughts of which make me tingle.

I can also confirm that his package is indeed as large as I thought it might be. Fuck me.

Griffin pulls me up, circling his arms around me, and after a brief hesitation, he smooths his hand down my backside and cups my ass.

Caught under the rush of fire racing over my skin, I stare at his bare chest breathlessly, my eyes roaming over the gleaming muscles blankly as I hold back the moan trembling on my lips.

What’s happening? Griffin Hathaway, my archnemesis and the jerk who has insisted for years he doesn’t want me, is holding my ass.

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