More Than This (More Than, #1)(4)

“I always used a condom with her, always. I know I’m an *, but I knew she got around, and with you… there was never that barrier with us and I didn’t want to risk it. Babe, you have to-"

“You mean you didn’t want to get caught?”

He sighs, “Mikayla, I’m so sorry.” Asshole has the decency to sound sincere. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me? I mean, we had plans to go to college together. We planned our future tog-"

“OH MY GOD…” she gasps, panic written all over her face. “Who was your first, James?”

He flinches, it’s a small movement but we both catch it.

“Our first time at the hotel on my birthday, that wasn’t your first time was it?”

This guy just bought * to a whole new level.

“God, you faked it all, and the lies… I must be so f*cking stupid!” she cries.

It’s silent for what seems like the longest time. Asshole must sense that nothing he says is going to make this any better.

A sob escapes from her and he begins to move forward to comfort her. I do everything I can to stay still. He manages to hold her while she sobs in his arms. After a minute, she rears back from his hold and pushes him away. “Was I not good enough in bed? Is that what it was? Did I do it wrong?” She sounds so sad now. “If you didn’t want to be with me, you could have just broken up with me, James. You didn’t have to cheat on me, over, and over, and over again. With my best friend. You could’ve just told me you didn’t want to be with me anymore, and you could’ve had all the girls in the world. It didn’t have to be like this. God, James…” she looks up at him. “You didn’t have to break my heart,” she whispers.

My chest tightens at her words.

Tears are falling freely down both their faces.

She squares her shoulders and lifts her chin, “You need to go, James. I can’t even stand to look at you right now.”

“Mikayla, please,” he begs.

“Please, James. Just go,” she pleads.

He actually listens, and walks away, brushing past me, as if I don’t even exist. I look back at her. She’s leaning against the wall, and slowly, her body gives up and she slumps against it, falling to her ass. Her body breaks out in silent sobs. Her arms shielding her head from the outside world.

I’m still standing here like a creeper and she has no idea. I need to do something. I need to comfort her, to make sure she’s going to be okay. Or maybe I should just go out there and kick that guy’s ass.

I clear my throat.

She looks up startled.

“Holy shit, accent boy. How much of that did you see?”


Chapter 3


Mikayla


I can’t believe accent boy has just witnessed that whole thing. I’m so fricken embarrassed by all of it. Mainly because I was the dumb girl that got played for so long.

“So that just happened, huh?” he says, with this deep voice that doesn’t belong on a teenage boy. It belongs to a rough middle aged lumberjack… or something. He starts towards me and motions his head to the spot on the floor next to me, I nod once not looking at him.

“So… your boyfriend’s an * and your best friend’s a selfish whore,” he states, taking a seat next me.

I can’t help but laugh, “That pretty much covers it.” I sniff.

“I’m Jake, by the way.” He nudges my side with his elbow. He’s looking straight ahead, not at me. He’s taken his dress shirt off. The beer obviously ruined it. I don’t even know what my dress looks like, I never got the chance to check. I look down at the satin material.

“Mikayla,” I say to the dress.

“Yeah, I figured that.”

We sit in silence for a few moments, then he clears his throat. It might be a nervous habit, I don’t know. He clears it again, causing me to look to my left at his profile. He senses my gaze and turns to look at me.

It’s the first time I see him properly and he’s extremely handsome, not boyishly, more rugged and manly. Like he could grow 5 inches of facial hair in one night. He smiles at me then quickly looks away.

I was staring. Shit.

“So…” he starts, “you’re all dressed up and nowhere to go, huh?” Where is that accent from?

“Yeah, I guess so. Hey… um, where are you from?” I have to know.

He’s confused for a second, “Oh, my accent, huh? Yeah, um, it’s Australian, but I’m actually from here. It’s a long story.”

“Okay.”

“So…” he starts again. He rubs his hand through the hair on the back of his head, little curls of dark brown, almost black form at the bottom of his hair line. His hair has a kink in it that can only be caused by wearing a baseball cap anytime he’s not sleeping or dressed in formal wear, it’s long enough that the ends would curl over the edges of his cap. “You heading to senior prom?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I mean, yeah, I was. I don’t think I could handle going anymore.”

“To yours, or any?”

Huh? What was he saying?

“I don’t know yet. I haven’t really processed everything, y’know?”

“Okay… well…” he clears his throat again. “I mean, you can come to mine. I have a spare ticket and it would be a shame to waste that amazing dress. You look beautiful, by the way.” His eyes dart to mine quickly, then look back down. James didn’t even comment on the way I looked. “I swear I’m not a psycho,” he continues, “and we have the limo for the whole night so you can just leave when you want, if you hate it I mean, or me, if you hate me,” he lets out a single laugh. “God, you must think I’m crazy, and my mate Logan, spilling his beer on you…” He shakes his head, “Shit, I’m sorry, by the way. He’s kind of a dick.” He hasn’t stopped rambling and I let him. “Look, I just don’t think you should let bad people dictate what should be a good time. Come hang out with me and my friends… It’ll at least take your mind off things for a little bit. I just think that maybe-"