Page 158 of Wild Thing
Her words stung—truth has a way of doing that.
“He was engaged, Taylor.” I finally said.
“Yeah, but now he isn’t. That has to mean something, right?”
“I just feel like I’ve really fucked up this time.”
“Maybe if you’d let that ten-foot wall of yours down and compromised, you’d find that life isn’t so bad after all.”
The intercom roared to life again calling for all passengers on Flight 168 to make their way to their departure gate. It was my flight.
I stood, shrugged my bag over my shoulder and pulled the handle up on my carry-on.
Goodbyes sucked.
Taylor stood and draped her arm over my shoulders. “You need to do some soul-searching, my girl," she said, pulling me close. "If everything turns to shit at home and you need to get away, you know you always have a place to stay with me, right?”
I nodded, leaning into her. “Thanks, Tay.”
"Call me when you get home.”
We hugged goodbye and I made my way to the departure gate. I wheeled my carry-on throughout the terminal and thought about what Taylor said.
She was right. I had a talent for overcomplicating my life. I wanted to unfuck it, but wasn't sure if it was possible.
First, I'd need to work on myself.
It had only taken me one week to become someone I hated. I wanted to peel the skin from my bones, that's how much I loathed myself.
My mind had become a dangerous neighborhood, and I hated wandering it alone.
I promised myself right then and there that I would get the help I needed.
But first, I had to go home and face the Zack-shaped music.
Forty-Three
DYLAN
Tuesday
Idon’t recommend experiencing two break-ups within a week.
It had barely been two days since my world had collapsed with Brax, but here I was again—back in White Point and about to destroy another relationship.
Even though I had mentally braced myself for this conversation, nothing could have prepared me for Zack’s reaction.
When Zack arrived at my apartment, I saw the shock on his face the moment he stepped through the door. There was no doubt I’d been the victim of violence.
My face was now an angry shade of purple, bruised and swollen, the deep gash on my hairline still raw, but in the first phase of healing.
At first, pain and concern filled his eyes as he rushed toward me. Without a word, he pulled me into his arms and held me.
Zack pulled back just enough to cradle my chin in his hands, his thumbs brushing over my skin as if trying to soothe me, but when he leaned in to kiss me, I turned away.
Hurt flashed across Zack’s face. I wondered if he thought it was because I couldn’t bear to be touched, not after what had happened with Steven.
But it wasn’t that.
