Mockingbird (A Stepbrother Romance #2)(41)

"That's good-"

"I'm not finished. When they get back we confront them and tell them the truth."

"Uh-"

"You don't have to tell them everything in detail," I sigh. "Look, we stand up to them together. We're adults. They can't tell us who we can and can't be with. This is it."

I reach over, pull open the nightstand, and grab it, the box of condoms I bought. I checked the expiration date, just in case. I slap the box against his chest.

"You want me? I'm right here. Pull these sheets off me and f*ck me, damn you. I'm sick of being teased. I like you, Apollo. I really like you. I think I'm starting to feel something for you. You know how you said when you look at me… and… I feel that way about you. I never cared about it before. When I'm with you I forget everything.

I drop the sheet, throw my leg over him and straddle him, kneeling, naked, hands on my hips. I thrust out my chest and arch my back.

"Grab me and f*ck me. Come on. If we're going to do this, let's do it."

"What if I hurt you?"

"You know what you're doing."

"Not like that. I mean what if-"

"You're hurting me right now. Can't you see what you do to me? I want more. I want you inside me. Please."

He looks at me for a good minute. I know how his body feels about the situation, his intentions are very plain and standing straight and hard. He rises and my stomach flutters as I realize what I've just gotten myself into, and he seizes me by the hips and tosses me down onto to the bed.

Then he stands up, grabs his boxers and pulls them on, and yanks his jeans up and starts doing up his belt. I fall back onto the bed, crushed. It feels like someone dropped a bowling ball on my stomach.

"Don't go. I changed my mind. We can just fool around a little more, I won't try to rush you…"

"There is no rushing," he says, softly. "Diana, I can't do this, I…" he sighs. He looks me right in the eyes and I feel a shiver pass through me. "You deserve somebody better than me."

I could react to that a million ways, but for reasons I'm not completely aware of, my hurt melts into fury as I hurl the condom box at him and he turns, bouncing it off his shoulder.

"That's not your god damn decision. Get out, Apollo. Get out!"

"Diana, wait-"

"I'm not waiting. I should have known better. I thought you understood me. You're just another person that wants to tell me what's best for my life. I don't want to hear it, Apollo. You had your chance," I yank the sheets up and cover myself. "Deal's off the table. Get. Out. Of. My House."

I can't look at him. I can't see that look of anguish on his face. He pulls his t-shirt on so hard I hear stitches pop and slams my door on his way out. I count the thuds of his footsteps on the staircase until the front door slams, and tear myself out of bed, choking down on my sobs, trying to swallow my fury.

I scrub my face in the sheets until it hurts, get up and grab the condom box. With my luck, Mom would trip over it when I got home and I'd get a six hour lecture about being a slut for being prepared to have sex.

I get in the shower and turn up the water until it hurts, and just stand there. If the hot water peels the skin off, maybe it will distract me from the world ending.

What is the goddamn point? Why do I even bother? I lean on the wall and close my eyes and there's nothing behind them but my own future staring back at me. The light at the end of the tunnel is an oncoming train ready to run me over, the conductor is my mother and the passenger is a cold, dry life studying what she wants, going where she wants, doing what she wants, dating who she wants, living the life she wanted for herself.

Everybody wants me to be a puppet. Mom wants to live through me, Lucas wants me to be his f*ck toy, Apollo used me and fed me some bullshit to let me down gently (after I must have swallowed a quart of his… gah!) after I thought he really felt something for me. Felt the way I did.

There was something there. A spark, a connection. I'm not stupid. There's no such thing as love at first sight. It's just hormones. It was…

It was real. What I felt was real. Prince Charming came and swept me off my feet. Except it was just an act.

The only person in my life that's straight with me is Charity.

Sitting on my bed wrapped up in towels, I call her.

"Hey," she yawns. "Di? What's up?"

"Are you working today?"

"Nah. My uncle gave me a couple days to sleep it off. You really saved my ass."

"Can you come over? Wait, I'll come to you."

It takes me an hour to get dressed, and a glass of orange juice and a frozen sausage biscuit to get my strength up to drive. Charity is waiting for me on her porch. We go around the back of the house and sit in faded, warped adirondack chairs around a big clay chimney pot.

"You want some weed?" she says, looking wistfully into the distance. "You have an 'I need weed' air about you today."

"No."

"My uncle made brownies."

"I could go for brownies. Wait. Do they have weed in them?"

"No, he does this thing that makes a kind of butter out of it-"

"Nevermind. I need a drink. Something that won't intoxicate me."