Kiss and Don't Tell(113)



I purse my lips. “Probably not. I would’ve thought it was weird.”

“And Pacey really likes you, right?”

“I thought he did,” I say, thinking back to the awful things we said to each other.

“Maybe he wanted a chance at winning your heart before you judged him for being Josh’s half-brother.”

“I hate to admit it, but Max is making sense,” Katherine says.

“That doesn’t negate the way he treated me. I’ve never seen him like that before. He was out of control—”

“Did he hit you?” Katherine interjects, now sitting in a chair across from us.

“No.” I shake my head. “He’d never do that. But he was set off, angry—”

“Didn’t he get his tests done today? Maybe the results weren’t good.”

For the first time since I left Pacey’s apartment, I remember that’s exactly where he’d come from. From visiting with his doctor. Oh shit.

“Did you not ask him?” Max asks.

“I didn’t have time to ask. The minute I got back to his apartment, he bombarded me with questions and accusations. I’ve no clue how his appointment went.”

“That could be the reason he flew off the deep end.”

“I think we all know I have a hard time controlling my emotions,” Katherine says. “I’d most likely displace my anger onto you if I were in that situation.”

I bite on my lower lip. “Do you think they were bad results?”

Max shrugs. “Won’t know unless you ask him.”

I consider it, but then something inside me tells me it doesn’t feel right. None of this feels right. My life hasn’t felt right in a while.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say.

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? You broke things off over this fight. If there was a reason, then you should talk about it.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter, because I don’t think it would’ve lasted. I mean, look at me. I’m a mess. Everything about my life is a mess. My ex-boyfriend is trying to get back together with me, the guy who—God, who I thought was my soulmate just broke me, and I have nowhere to be tomorrow, on a Monday, because I don’t have a job. I have nothing.” I shake my head again. “I don’t have it together.”

“You’ve been through a rough patch,” Max says, taking my hand in his. “You’re allowed to take a moment.”

“I think that moment is over.” I stand and retrieve my suitcase from the hallway before heading upstairs to my room.

Once I’m settled in my bedroom, I shut the door. Then I fall onto my bed and clutch my pillow to my face, crying into it.

Why did Pacey have to hide that information from me?

Why did I have to fall for him so hard and so fast?

And why do I feel as though everything around me is falling apart, but when I was with Pacey, it felt put together?

Why, for the first time since losing my mom, did I not feel so utterly alone?

And why do I feel as though I’ve made a terrible mistake?





Chapter Twenty-Five





PACEY





The blackout curtains are drawn, with only an inch of light cutting into my rather dark apartment.

There’s an empty six-pack in front of me.

And I haven’t bothered with a shower or a shirt today.

What’s the point?

I’ve been waiting on the call from Doc all goddamn day. I’ve run through my fight with Winnie far too many times. And I haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday. I’m so fucking miserable, that instead of entertaining the idea of turning on the TV, I’ve just sat in solitude instead. No noise, no distractions, just my toxic thoughts on how I could’ve handled things differently.

As I sit on the couch and stare into space, there’s a knock at my door.

Desperate hope blooms in the pit of my stomach as I sit up and look to the entryway. Could I be the luckiest son of a bitch in the world and have my girl come back?

I peel myself off the couch and go to open my door.

All hope fades as I see the four faces smiling at me from the other side of the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask.

“Couldn’t let our man suffer alone,” Hornsby says, grabbing me by the shoulder and giving it a squeeze as he walks into my apartment.

One by one, they give me a pat on the back or a squeeze to my shoulder and then roll their suitcases into my place. I hope they don’t think they’re all staying here.

“Love the dark and moody vibe you have going on here,” Taters says, right before he tears the curtains open, letting the sun scorch me with its brightness.

“Look at that. The sun is having some vampire-melting vibes on our friend,” Posey says as I cover my eyes.

“Does it smell in here?” Hornsby asks, sniffing.

“There’s a definite stink,” Taters agrees.

Holmes just walks past me with a sympathetic look and then takes a seat in one of the chairs in my living room while the other boys start airing out my apartment and cleaning up my bottles.

“Look, he’s drinking light beer.” Posey tsk-tsks. “If you’re going to mend a broken heart with alcohol, you have to throw calories out the window.”

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