“Coward,” I call out, cupping my hands around my mouth.
She stops dead in her tracks and spins around. Green eyes flare into mine, only I can’t tell what she’s thinking because the rest of her is as smooth and cold as ice.
“I’m just trying to save us from making another mistake we’ll regret.”
Wow. Shit, that stings. I take a step back then another. Mistake. Regret. That’s been the story of my life for the last month. And I’m so done with it. So done with all of it I can hardly stand here looking at her. Heat licks at my skin as my jaw clenches.
“You go on and tell yourself that. But for the record, you weren’t a mistake to me, and I regret nothing about that night.”
“Brecken—”
I shake my head, my fists balling so tight my fingers tingle. “It’s fine. You’re probably right. We said it last night. We’re not friends and we’re not lovers, we’re not enemies and we’re not casual either. We’re nothing.” I storm off, leaving her there, her wide-eyed, lost, tough-girl expression burning holes in me. “Only nothing is the last thing I want to be to you,” I mutter when I’m positive she can’t hear me.
6
rina
The oppressive early evening heat bears down on me, blinding me as we run west down Commonwealth. We ran down past the esplanade on Storrow and being near the river with its whipping breeze was far easier than this.
“What’s up with you tonight?” Oliver asks, running into my side and practically shooting me across the lane and into another runner. I throw him a death glare to which he just grins playfully.
“What do you mean?” I already know what he’s going to say, but stalling for time is what I do best.
“Other than the fact that you’re running like your ass is on fire in this fucking heat and humidity, you’re quiet.”
“I’m always quiet.”
“Not this quiet,” he challenges, moving closer in my direction as we weave around a man walking a dog. “Rina,” Oliver grouses for about the tenth time in the last ten minutes. “Slow the fuck down.”
I shake my head, not answering him because I’m nearly at a sprint and if I just keep pushing myself a little harder…
“It’s ninety degrees. I’m dying.”
“We’re almost done.”
But it’s too late. He broke through my barrier. All day after my morning with Brecken, I tried to push it away. I cooked meals for this week that I can bring into work. I did laundry. I cleaned every goddamn nook and cranny of my house. I checked my drawers, and everything was perfect. Nothing was out of order.
I focused on the things I had to do, and I did not think about Brecken. About the hurt expression on his face when I called him a mistake I regret. I lied and I feel bad, but he was getting too close. Too familiar. And I was too tempted.
Then right before I walked out the door to meet Oliver, my parents called. Mister Bishop, it seems, made another call. This one indicating that his lawyer was going to be in touch. Why? Just fucking why? He wouldn’t tell my parents anything. Said I’m the one he has to speak with about this.
Doesn’t he have any clue what he’s doing to me or is that part of his game?
I was fine. I was fucking great. I was moving on and past it and my life was motherfucking together. And now that feels like it’s all falling apart and I’m a million miles from where I was just days ago. I have no idea how to stop it because suddenly I’ve become a house of cards. One card was pulled, and I toppled down.
Now I’m starting from scratch.
“There are two hundred and six bones in the human body. Over six hundred and fifty named skeletal muscles with six major types. One hundred and eighteen elements—no, forget that one.” That makes me think of trivia night with Brecken.
“Are you studying for the NCLEX again?” Oliver jests.
I didn’t realize I was speaking aloud.
No matter. I pick up the pace, needing the exertion to exhaust me and shut my mind down.
“Boston was founded in 1630,” I continue, ignoring my brother, and switching up the topic from science to history. “Four presidents have come from Massachusetts.”
“Rina, what the hell are you doing?”
“Concentrating. Now shut up.”
“No,” he rasps, winded. Reaching out, he snags my arm to slow me and eventually stop me. He spins me to face him and then his hands hit his knees, his dark head hanging toward the ground, sweat dripping onto the asphalt as he tries to catch his breath.
“Why’d you stop? I wanted to do another lap.”
Oliver’s eyebrows hit his hairline, using the hem of his exercise shirt to wipe at the sweat pouring off his forehead and face. “Rina, we’ve been running for over an hour. I’m covered in sweat and about to pass out in this heat. We’re done.”
I growl under my breath, moving to the middle of the green that runs along the center of Commonwealth.
“Wimp.”
“Stop deflecting. You’re counting,” he pants. “I know you enough to know you’re disguising numbers with facts.”
I frown, tossing my arms up and around my head, clasping my hands behind my head. “I just hate running without music. I needed something else to fill my head.”
“Bullshit.” He points at me, cocking his head up to meet my eyes through his lashes. “You’re more tense than usual too. Talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay? That’s why I wanted to run.”
“Is it a guy?”
I laugh. “You want to talk boys with me, Oliver?”
“No. But I’d still like there to be one to talk about.”
“Oh, are we going there?”
It’s a low blow. I seem to be all about them today. Oliver was in love with his high school sweetheart. So in love they stayed together through college and on the day he was accepted to medical school, he was going to propose. Only she ended it before he got the chance because she was cheating on him.
“Fuck you.”
Yeah. I deserve that.
“I’m sorry. That was shitty.”
“Talk to me, Rina. I mean it.”
I roll my eyes at him, watching as my brother frowns, struggling with whatever is heavy on his mind.
“It’s not a guy.” Though the image of Brecken on all fours, hovering an inch away hits me square in the butterflies. Just the way it did this morning. Bastard.
He ignores me completely. “If you ever did need to talk about one, I’d, you know, listen. Help if I could.”
Reaching out, I squeeze his arm. “I’m fine. Stop worrying so much.”
Brecken isn’t what has me so out of sorts, though he’s certainly not helping. Even if Aria weren’t a factor, which she is, I don’t open myself up and have no desire to. Brecken is sinfully attractive, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued. But what happened this morning won’t happen again. I know it won’t. I wounded his pride and bruised his ego. Guys like Brecken don’t suffer that sort of assault and come back for more.
I’m counting on that actually.