Viper (Fallen Angel #2)(61)
His eyes narrowed. “You done?”
Was I? No. Fuck no. I wanted him to fight back after he admitted he couldn’t sleep in his own damn bed without me there. I wanted him to tell me he felt the same way I did—that this casual fling between us had changed over the last few months into something more.
“So this is it? It’s over?” I said.
“You need more closure than this?”
Fuck me, he was being an asshole. He always told me he was, and I never listened, because he’d never shown that side of himself with me, but I sure as hell was seeing it now. The last thing I’d expected when he invited me to his mom’s tonight was to get booted from Viper’s life—and his bed.
“I wanna know one thing,” I said. “Is the reason you’re doing this because of the band? Because of what people would say about me if they knew about us?”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“It matters to me,” I yelled, shoving Viper in the chest, causing him to stumble back. “It fucking matters to me.”
If he was surprised by my reaction, he didn’t show it. Instead, he righted himself and pulled another cigarette out of his packet. After he lit up, he took a long inhale and then blew the stream of smoke away from me. “It’s for the best. You’ll see.”
I shook my head and ignored the sting behind my eyes. “That’s not a fucking answer.”
“You know the answer,” Viper roared, his indifference fading away as he finally snapped. “Stop pretending like we’re something we’re not, and move the fuck on.”
His words were a slap in my face. Designed to hurt me so I’d back off—just the way he obviously wanted it.
“Look at me.” My voice came out tight and full of gravel, because I’d been grinding my molars together so hard my jaw ached. When Viper didn’t immediately comply, I raised my voice. “Look at me.”
Hard, dark eyes met mine, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking a step toward him.
I shoved my finger against his chest to punctuate my words. “You’re making a mistake.”
Viper wrapped his hand around my wrist to stop me, his hold firm to the point of pain. “My choice to make.”
Right. How could I forget? It was Viper’s choice. Viper’s choice to chase after me, Viper’s choice to fuck me for more than one night, and now it was Viper’s choice to end things. I got no say. After all, who was I? Nothing more than a fuck in his eyes.
I ripped my arm away from his hold and walked backward away from him. Nothing else needed to be said right then, because if I didn’t leave now, I would end up punching the shit out of that handsome face. The one he used to lure objects of his lust to his bed. To lure me.
He stared right back at me, unmoving, as I glared at him, my heart pounding in my chest and threatening to burst. When I couldn’t stand to look at him anymore, I turned around, balled my hands into the pockets of my jacket, and walked off to the train.
I knew Viper wouldn’t follow. He hadn’t even come outside to see me; it’d just been happenstance that I’d been standing out there. God, what a fucking prick. But if truth be told, I was just as mad at myself for falling for the “casual fuck” bullshit as I was at him for spewing it in the first place.
Did he honestly think ending things would be a good thing for the band? Did he really believe that? Because as far as I was concerned, Viper flipping his “asshole” switch wasn’t going to endear him to anyone, least of all me. Fuck, no wonder Trent left.
But I was different. I wasn’t a quitter, and I wasn’t about to be thrown out on my ass like a piece of garbage either. I was the lead singer of Fallen Angel, and I deserved better than that.
The train to my apartment dragged on forever, but the longer I sat, staring out the window into the black nothing, the more my anger began to dissipate. Taking its place was something much worse: disappointment. Something I was positive Viper wouldn’t be feeling at all.
I leaned my head against the cool glass and closed my eyes, but when all I saw was the look of indifference on Viper’s face when I left, I opened them again.
I thought I’d gotten through. I thought I’d cracked his shell. Hell, I was the one taking a risk here. Viper was the one out and proud, and my parents didn’t even know about me. It was a good thing I’d never told them. Jesus.
When I finally reached my apartment, I unlocked the front door and braced myself for Imogen throwing herself out into the hallway at me. But when I saw the lights out at her place, I breathed a sigh of relief. I wouldn’t have to deal with her questions right now. I needed to be alone to wrap my head around everything that happened tonight and then figure out how to do what Viper had suggested—“move the fuck on.”
I put the key in the lock, but I didn’t open the door. Shit, the last thing I wanted to do was sit on the couch or in the chair or on my bed, all places that would remind me of Viper.
No, I thought, tucking my key back into my pocket and continuing the climb up the stairs until I reached the emergency exit. I need to be somewhere Viper hasn’t touched.
I pushed open the door—the alarm on it had never worked since I’d lived there—and took the stairs up to the roof. No one else seemed to come up here, which meant I was free to bring my guitar up and play without any of my neighbors beating on the wall to shut me up. I didn’t feel much like playing tonight, though, which might’ve been the first time I’d ever felt so shitty and not reached for an instrument.