Breaking Him (Love is War #1)(49)

I knew she’d spent some, I’d been there for most of it, back in the early days of my hatred of her. But the way she said it was the way I thought it, like it had meant more to her than the simple short trips when she’d come to visit.

She eyed me and, seeing something, changed the subject.

Either she couldn’t back up what she’d said or she wanted me to think that she was sparing my feelings.

It wasn’t hard for me to pick one, and I felt instantly better when I did.

“Did you see that Whitney Holloway is here?”

Well, she was certainly a good subject changer. That got my attention. “I did not,” I said succinctly, taking a long drink.

Whitney was another privileged trust fund baby. She was rich from birth, but for fun she modeled in her spare time. Barf. She also happened to be the woman Dante had started seeing immediately after he and Tiffany had called off their engagement.

Her tinkling laugh rang out hollowly. “We should start a Dante’s ex club. There are certainly enough of us floating around, right?”

That passive aggressive jab was meant to bring home the fact that we’d both had a relationship with him, and that mine was no more significant than any of his others.

“Oh look, speak of the devil,” she said with a smile.

I turned to watch as Dante approached us, looking ill at ease.

Tiffany met him halfway, throwing her arms around his neck as she rose up to say something in his ear.

Images of her wrapped around him assaulted me. Of them, together, naked and writhing. They were graphic, and I’d never get them out of my head.

Seeing him with her gave me that feeling again. My skin humming, bile rising in my throat.

But then—he recoiled from her, moving around her without so much as a hello.

Well, whatever he was doing with her for this twisted little trip, he was not playing the same games as he was with me. If I had thrown myself at him like that, I’d have been over his shoulder and carried to the nearest bed in about three seconds flat.

It was something, some sad sop to my ego. I made a vengeful note to use that against Tiffany the first chance I got.





CHAPTER





TWENTY-FIVE





PAST


Tiffany was only a despised name in my head for years before I actually met the girl.

When her parents started sending her to stay at Dante’s house for a few weeks every summer, I was already solidly turned against her.

It is a fact that I never gave her a chance.

Blind hatred will do that.

Dante was kinder than I was, or at least that’s what I told myself back then. He tried not to hold their mothers’ crazy ideas against her.

When I first got wind of it, we were alone in Gram’s parlor right before dinner. We were sitting side by side, waiting for her to finish a phone call.

He had a hold of my hand when he told me the news.

I wrenched it away.

I was already his girlfriend, already possessive of him and sure of my ownership.

And so I threw a fit.

“She’s staying at your house?” I was trying not to raise my voice. It was the thing I’d been dreading since his mother had told me about her.

He shrugged, looking helpless. “She’s just some girl I don’t know. My mom invited her. It’s not like I can stop them, but who cares? I’m hardly ever home. The only thing I do is sleep there.

That sounded ominous enough to me. “If you stay in that house with her, I’m breaking up with you,” I told him.

He did not like that. I’d never threatened him with such a thing, never even thought of it before.

“Are you kidding me?” he spoke low, temper flashing in his eyes.

He tried to grab me, but I evaded him, standing up and walking away. “You let me know when you decide what you want to do.”

Of course he didn’t let me leave like that.

He caught me, picked me up, and carried me back to the couch. He had me pinned on my back, face looming over mine when he said. “Stand down, tiger. Who do you think you’re talking to? Whose side do you think I’m on?”

I was not standing down, still fuming, face turned away, lips trembling. “I don’t even know.”

“You do. Pretend all you want, but you know I’m on your side. Don’t you?”

“No.” I knew I was pouting like a brat, but I felt so helpless. I couldn’t stand the thought of him sleeping in the same house as that girl in the picture.

A picture I’d kept, buried somewhere in the bottom of a drawer, my fear of what she represented not buried nearly as deep.

He was the only thing of value in the world that belonged to me, and the thought of losing him made me feel impotent and weak. Made me want to lash out at anyone and anything. Even him.

“What do you want me to do?” he whispered right into my mouth. “I’ll do whatever you want. Don’t you know I’ll do whatever you want?” His voice was cajoling. Seductive. Completely unfair.

And as he spoke, he was shifting on top of me, moving his hips until he was lying flush between my thighs and we were both breathing hard.

He shifted, grinding against me. “Anything you want,” he repeated, “but don’t threaten me with that again. It’s not okay. It’s not an option. Don’t you know it’s not an option?”