The Hookup Handbook(49)
“There he is. There’s the real Case. Not a shred of loyalty or decency in him.”
Sienna looks at me over her shoulder, terror and disappointment registering on her face.
Fuck.
Seeing her look at me like that hurts more than anything her brother could ever do to me. With one look, she shatters the fragile world we created together, the one where we connected and trusted each other—the one I was ready to take to the next level moments before Ryder showed up.
“I’m . . . I’m so sorry,” I mutter, backing away, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. A mix of blood and sweat smears on my skin, and suddenly, I realize I have to get out of there.
I can’t do this anymore, can’t handle seeing Ryder so pissed and Sienna so scared. I head for my car and peel out of the parking lot, the full weight of the situation finally sinking in. My mind doesn’t stop racing the whole drive home, and all the shame and guilt I’ve been burying for the past month hits me at the same time. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.
Of course Ryder hates me. Of course Sienna could barely look at me. I lied to my best friend about sleeping with his sister, and in the process, I ruined my chances with her, right when I finally realized how much she means to me.
Rolling to a stop at a red light, I reach for my phone, intending to call Sienna and apologize, but I stop short when I realize what she must think.
I hit her brother, for no reason other than he was hitting me—and he had a damn good reason to do so. What I did was unforgivable, to both of them, and I can’t even imagine how she must feel about me right now.
When I get home, I pull a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and carefully place it on my already swollen face. Holding the peas in place with one hand, I use the other to open the bottle of whiskey I’ve been saving for a rainy day, and pour myself a glass.
When I catch a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror on my way to the couch, I barely recognize the man staring back at me. My lip is swollen, my cheek is bright red, and a grimace is painted on my face. I’ve never looked more pathetic—and I’ve never felt more pathetic either.
Sinking onto the couch, I take a good, long swig of whiskey, relishing the burn on the back of my throat.
In that moment, I know that I deserve every bit of pain I’m feeling, both physical and emotional. I screwed up in a major way, and I don’t know how I’ll make it right again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sienna
“I just want to talk, Sienna. Please.”
This is the third time in the last hour that Ryder has knocked on my bedroom door in an attempt to talk things out. As if he could somehow explain away the fact that he just pummeled my heart into the concrete.
I sniffle and wipe my nose when I hear Ryder’s defeated sigh outside my door, followed by the sound of his footsteps leading away from my room and the click of his own door shutting.
Good. Stay the hell away from me and go think about what you did.
When was the last time my brother and I fought like this? It was probably when we were teenagers and too caught up in our own hormones to think about each other’s feelings. But I can’t talk to him right now. I have nothing to say to him.
I reach for my phone, hopeful that Case has replied to my texts, but I’m met with a blank screen. He’s read all three of my messages begging him to talk to me, to tell me he’s okay, but he hasn’t so much as reassured me that he made it home. I watch those three torturous bubbles pop up on the screen, then disappear, like he can’t find the right words.
Eventually, the three little dots stop too. He doesn’t want to talk, and that hurts almost more than anything else.
Tears build behind my eyes again. I should have known he’d run once things got messy. Granted, bruised knuckles and a bloody nose are far messier than I could have ever expected. But is this really how it ends between us? With a couple of punches thrown in a restaurant parking lot? Is what we have so unremarkable that it isn’t worth fighting for?
Yes, Ryder found out and he’s pissed—rightly so—but we’re both adults.
I pitch my phone across the room and bury my face in my pillow.
How could I have been so stupid to think that Case would want to be with me anyway? Even before all this Ryder business, Case was a freaking escort. He’s not going to commit to being with just one woman.
And once he gets his dick back on track, what would I do? Just deal with the fact that I have to share him with any woman in town with a sex drive and a checkbook? Not likely.
Still, I hate this feeling of being shut out more than anything.
? ? ?
The rest of my night is divided between sleeping and crying, and when sunlight bleeds through the window, I’ve already been awake for too long.
The few hours of sleep I managed to get were completely ruined by nightmares. Every time I shut my eyes, all I could see was Ryder shoving Case to the asphalt, and Case, even though taller and more muscular, just taking it—like he knew he deserved it or something.
I’m not sure what’s worse—the nightmares themselves, or waking up to remember that my life and my bad dreams are one and the same. At least in my nightmares, I don’t have a throbbing headache from crying so hard.
I swing my legs out of bed and plant my feet on the floor. No point in trying to fall back asleep.