I glance over at Lynx, my eyes widening. “Yeah, he did actually.”
She nods, completely at ease as she grabs onto my wrist. “Good, let’s go have some fun. I’ll show you all the bullshit I got wrapped into tonight.”
I laugh, and with one last glance into Lynx’s dark eyes, I’m hauled away from him.
Chapter 11
Do you know that feeling when you see so much good it kind of hurts your heart? Like there’s too much happiness around you, and it spirals you into a miniature depression?
That’s where I’m at.
Hours of hanging out with Violet and the rest of the clubhouse has left a sadness in my heart. Not because they aren’t awesome, no, the opposite, actually. It’s because they are so fucking awesome.
Why can’t my own mother be this fun, this inviting, this amazing?
These people are exactly that—amazing.
But after hanging with Violet for hours, the pit in my chest just makes me want to fade it all out. Go back to my lonely room and decompress. It’s too much right now. With all the lights and noises.
Not only that, but Lynx has been slowly retreating.
The second he stepped in here, his heated eyes were burning into the back of my head, and they followed my every movement. That heat has since abated, and the occasional glances toward him only proved it. He’s been putting up an invisible wall, and I can see it happening. His eyes have been steadily growing colder and colder as the night has progressed.
Now there’s a wall in front of him so impenetrable that nothing will knock it down. A part of me wants to rush to him and ask him what the hell happened. I still have the ache between my legs from his touch, and the vibe he gives off is like he doesn’t even know me.
Another part of me wants to run away and never come back. Hope that my heart will heal over time, because right now, it doesn’t feel like that at all. It feels like it’s in a pile of shattered dust at my feet.
“Hey, you okay? You seem upset,” Violet presses her hand against my arm. “I hope you aren’t still thinking about the shit we talked about earlier.”
I shake my head, completely having forgotten about our conversation before my nap. “I’m just getting tired. I should probably go home in case my mom wants to surprise me tomorrow morning or something.” I’m tempted to roll my eyes, but I don’t have to, as Violet does it for me. We both know my mom isn’t planning a damn thing, but she doesn’t pry.
“Yeah, for sure. I’ll bring you home. Just let me get my keys.”
She walks behind the bar, talking to Haley for a moment. I spin around, giving one last glance at Lynx. Like he knows I’m watching him, his eyes lift to mine. They’re cold, though, and I can see the waver in them, like he’s forcing himself to be this way.
What happened in the last few hours? I don’t get it.
I ask the question with my eyes, and with one last blink, his face blanks out and he turns the other way.
I want to scream and thrash, break everything in here and burn this tree down. But Violet means too much to me. Instead, I turn around just as Violet’s walking back.
“Ready?” she asks.
I nod, my entire Christmas spirit completely depleted.
With a sigh, I follow her out of the clubhouse and away from the man who hasn’t only left an ache between my legs, but also beneath my chest.
Chapter 12
“You sure you’re okay?” Violet asks as she parks the car in front of my apartment.
“I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”
She nods, chuckling. “I do feel that one. Okay, well, want to come over tomorrow?”
A frown pulls at my lips. “I shouldn’t. I should probably stay with my mom.” If she’ll even be home, that is. Otherwise, I’ll be here by myself. But the thought of being around Lynx, coldhearted and straight-faced, would be worse than anything else. I couldn’t handle it.
“Okay, well maybe another time, then.”
I smile. “Yeah, soon.”
I hop out of her car, giving her a small wave as I make my way up the steps to my apartment. Glancing up to the second level, I see the lights on, and I’m not sure whether I’m relieved or disappointed. I’d love to hang out with my mom, as unconventional as we are. But with Ray here all the time now, we never get the chance. It’s always the three of us, and I really fucking hate the guy.
I kick the carton out of the doorway again, hating how the cool breeze makes its way into the halls and our apartments because of it. Why do people want it to be an icebox in their houses? Is this what they like? It makes no sense.
My feet feel heavier than normal as I trudge up the steps. The heavy scent of marijuana makes its way to my nose, and I shake my head in distaste as I open my apartment door.
“Well, look at that, the bitch walked in,” Ray says with a cigarette perched between his lips.
“Ray,” my mom growls. I would be happy she defended me, but she chuckles at his words, and that makes her defenses bullshit.
“What? I’m just saying, after how she treated both of us earlier, she deserves a little slap across the face or something.”
“Hi, Mom,” I say, completely ignoring Ray all together.
“Where’ve you been, Iris?” she asks, pulling the cigarette from between Ray’s lips to take a drag of her own.
“Out with a friend.” I walk into the kitchen, pulling a chipped glass from the cupboard and filling it with water from the sink.
“This the same friend who’s dick you sucked?” Ray grumbles.
“Ray, that’s enough.” At least she sounds slightly annoyed this time.
I slam my glass on the counter. “Would you fucking stop? I was with my friend Violet from school. And before you start making some lesbian joke, no, we’re just friends. So why don’t you fuck off a bit and quit being an asshole.”
He stands up. “You know, talking like that back in the day would mean your ass cheeks are about to be black and blue.”
“Good thing you aren’t my father then, so I don’t have to deal with your perverted ass.”
He takes a step toward me, his fists clenching at his sides. “I can be your daddy if you want. Teach you a fucking lesson in respect.”
I sneer. “I’d rather bleed out in shark infested waters. Thank you, though.”
He steps up to the counter, him on one side and me on the other. “You little bitch.”
“The both of you, knock it off,” my mom whines from the couch. Not getting up to defend anyone. To defend me.
“How can you let him talk to me like this?” I cry out, my hands flinging into the air.
“You’re being a brat, Iris,” my mom snaps.
“Well, if your scumbag boyfriend wouldn’t be such a fucking leech, maybe I wouldn’t be such a brat.”
“Iris!” my mom barks.
“How can you defend him?” I shout.
“I should beat you senseless, you stupid bitch.”
My hand goes to a butter knife on the counter, dried butter still spread on the tip. “Try me, fucker.”
He laughs at me, a bellowing chuckle barking from his throat. “Shit, I’m scared,” he mocks.