Tangled (The Tangled Series)(48)

Fuck. Me.

No, that doesn’t quite cover it.

Fuck me with a chainsaw.

Yeah—that’s about right.

You ever see a singing *? Here’s your chance:

I was so blind I didn’t know

How much it would hurt to let you go

I want to heal us, want to mend

Come back, come back to me again

If I didn’t hate him so much—and the jackal who spawned him—I’d have to admit he’s not half bad. I watch Kate closely. Every emotion that crosses her face, each feeling that dances in her eyes.

You know when you have a stomach virus? And you lay around all day with a bucket at your side because you feel like you’re going to puke at any second? But then there’s that moment—when you know it’s coming. You break out in that cold, full-body sweat. Your head pounds, and you feel your throat expand to make room for the bile that’s charging up from your stomach.

That’s me. Right now.

I actually put my coffee down and look around for the nearest garbage can just to be sure I’ll make it there in time.

And I need to say I’m sorry

For all the pain I caused

Please give your heart back to me

I’ll keep it safe for eternity

We belong together

We’ve always known it’s true

There will never be another

My soul cries out for you.

Any other time, any other girl, I would bury Warren. Without even trying. He can’t hold a candle to me. I’m a goddamn Porsche; he’s a frigging pickup truck that can’t pass inspection.

But this is Kate. They have a history, a decade’s worth. And that, kiddies, makes him some major-league competition.

In the dark of night, it’s your name I call

I can’t believe I almost lost it all

One more chance, one breath, one try

No more reasons to say goodbye

I want to pick Kate up, caveman style, and carry her out of here. I want to lock her in my apartment where he can’t see her. Can’t touch her. Can’t touch us. The whole time I stare at her, but she doesn’t turn to look at me.

Not one f*cking time.

And I need to say I’m sorry

For all the pain I caused

Please give your heart back to me

I’ll keep it safe for eternity

We belong together

We’ve always known it’s true

There will never be another

My soul cries out for you

Why didn’t I learn to play an instrument? When I was nine, my mother wanted me to play the trumpet. After two lessons, the tutor quit ’cause I let the dog piss on his mouthpiece.

Why the hell didn’t I listen to my mother?

You are my beginning, you’ll be my end

More than lovers, more than friends

I want you, I want you

He can’t have her. Go ahead and want all day long, douchebag. Sing from the motherf*cking rooftops. Play until your fingers fall off. It’s too little, too late. She’s already mine. Kate isn’t the type to have sex with just anyone. And she f*cked me all weekend like the world was ending. That has to count for something.

Doesn’t it?

And I need to say I’m sorry

For all the pain I caused

Please give your heart back to me

I’ll keep it safe for eternity

For eternity

You and me

The small crowd that’s gathered in the lobby applauds. Dickhead puts his guitar down and walks up to Kate.

If he touches her, I will break his f*cking hand. I swear to God.

He doesn’t acknowledge me at all. He’s focused only on Kate. “I’ve been calling you since Friday night…and I stopped by the apartment a few times this weekend, but you were out.”

That’s right. She wasn’t home. She was busy. Now ask her what she was doing.

Who she was doing.

“I know this is work…but do you think we could go somewhere? To talk? Maybe your office?”

Say no.

Say no.

Say no, say no, say no, say no, say no, say no, say no, say no…

“Okay.”

Shit.

As she starts to walk away, I grab Kate’s arm. “I need to talk to you.”

Her eyes question me. “I’ll just be a—”

“There’s something I have to tell you. Now. It’s important.” I know I sound desperate, but I really don’t give a damn.

She puts her hand over mine, the one still clasping her arm. She’s calm—condescending, like she’s talking to a child. “All right, Drew. Let me talk to Billy first and I’ll meet you in your office, okay?”

I want to stomp my foot like a two-year-old. No. It’s so not f*cking okay. She needs to know where I stand. I have to stake my claim. Throw my hat in the ring. Get my car in the goddamn race.

But I drop my hand anyway. “Fine. You two have a nice chat.”

And I make sure I walk away first.





I stride toward my office. But I can’t help but stop at Erin’s desk when they walk by. As Kate turns to close her office door, our eyes meet. And she smiles at me. And for the first time in my life, I don’t know what it means.

Is she reassuring me that nothing’s changed? That nothing will? Is she saying thank you for bringing that f*ck nut crawling back to her? I just don’t know.