Chapter Thirty-nine
Brynn
Sleep is impossible.
I toss and turn on the twin bed, fighting memories and heartache and acting as if the perfect position in bed will make them go away.
If there is a magic position that does that, I don’t find it.
I give up trying to sleep when I hear Addison get up, but I close my eyes because I’m not ready to talk, either.
If I just lay here and don’t disturb anything, I don’t have to feel anything. I don’t have to relive waking up to the sound of voices raised in the other room. I was afraid at first, but the light was on. A burglar or vengeful Rho Kappa would probably work in the dark, right?
I took my phone off charge and climbed out of bed, checking around the room for I wasn’t even sure what.
And I found Killian’s phone face-down on the floor by the wall. That was weird, so I picked it up.
As soon as the screen lit up, I saw texts from two different numbers, both of them saying they were Sloane. Then I saw a call from the number he must have had saved for her in his phone, and it was so confusing because why would Killian have Sloane Whitley’s phone number saved in the first place?
Then I moved closer to the door, and I found out why.
My heart squeezes painfully, and I reprimand myself for thinking about it.
We’re not supposed to do that.
I roll on my side to face the wall, and when I do, I get a whiff of Killian’s scent off his T-shirt that I threw on.
Ugh. Ouch.
Why would he do this to me? Why would he even start something when he knew we had an expiration date? Why wouldn’t he at least tell me so I had a choice in the matter?
Everything hurts and I want to die.
I sigh heavily, squeezing my eyes shut and willing myself to sleep. Just for a little bit, just so I don’t have to be awake.
I think I finally manage to drift off because the next thing I know, my alarm is going off.
I’m relieved at first because it means I have something to do. School should serve as an adequate distraction, especially since it’s Tuesday, my busiest day of the week.
But getting up and getting ready also requires energy and I have very little of that.
I don’t shower because each room doesn’t have its own, there’s just a communal one everyone shares. I tell myself that’s the entire reason, I just don’t want to deal with a communal shower situation, but I think the disgusting truth might be that I can still smell Killian on my skin, feel traces of him between my thighs, and I’m not ready to wash them off just yet. I’m not ready to be clean.
I brush my teeth, but I can’t brush my hair since it’s naturally curly and I didn’t shower. If I brush my hair when it’s not wet, it will be a frizzy disaster. I pull my hair back in a tired braid instead, and I don’t bother putting on makeup. If I look how I feel, so what?
I pull on loose-fitting sweats and a shapeless gray T-shirt I’ve had since high school, then I go through my school bag to make sure I have everything I need for my classes today.
Addison comes back in, dressed much cuter than I am and with what appears to be a bottle of juice in her hand.
“Good morning,” she says cheerfully. “I brought you a smoothie.”
“Oh. Thank you,” I say, reaching for the bottle and examining the label.
“It’s delish. They have a bunch of them in the drink cooler downstairs, but I wasn’t sure if you’d want to be around people.”
“I definitely do not. Thank you.”
“When you’re ready to go, we can also sneak out the back way if you want to.”
I stand, sliding my bag over my shoulder. “I’m ready.”
“Oh. Okay,” she says brightly. “Let’s get out of here, then.”
Since Addison takes us the back way, we manage to get out of the house without encountering any of the other girls. I’m immensely grateful, and if I ever have enough money to live again in the foreseeable future, I’m going to buy her a thank you gift.
We don’t talk about what happened on the way to school, probably because she realizes talking about that right before sending me to my classes isn’t the best way to make sure I learn anything, but even without getting into it, my concentration is shot.
I try like hell to get my head in the game, but by the time I’m leaving physics, I can’t even remember walking to the building, let alone anything we went over in class.
I consider blowing off my next class because what even is the point, but I tell myself I only feel that way because I’m sad right now, and if I give in to the sadness, I’ll regret it when I show up to class on Thursday completely lost.
I don’t sneak in lunch or even a snack, and I forgot to pack myself a granola bar, so I’m seriously dragging by the time I haul myself to the Cutler lounge at three. They have a spread of cookies and coffee, so I help myself to both and then sink into a loveseat to at least put something in my body.
While I’m sitting there eating, my phone lights up on my lap and I see a number I don’t recognize. Swiping it open and putting it to my ear, I say, “Hello?”
“Hi, can I please speak with Brynn Blakely?”
“This is.”
“Hi, Brynn,” says the perky voice on the other line. “This is Michelle with student health services. I’m calling about your appointment tomorrow at the student health center. Unfortunately, the doctor had a family emergency and has to move appointments around a bit. We won’t be able to squeeze your appointment in, but I can reschedule you for something next week if that works for you.”
I sigh. “It’s okay. I don’t need it anymore anyway.”
“All right. Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
I end the call and put my phone away, then I take out my books and try to make sense of the notes I took in physics class.
I must look as confused as I feel because when Liam comes over, he asks, “Everything okay?”
I look up, but he’s looking at my clothes, not the clear confusion written all over my face. “Oh. Yeah, I’m just trying to decode my physics notes. I kind of spaced out in class and have no idea what any of this means.”
“You want to look at mine?” he asks, reaching into his messenger back and drawing out his physics notebook.
“Yes, please.” I reach for them. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem,” he says, dropping onto the seat next to me.
Since his notes are far better than the ones I took, I quickly copy down everything. Just as I’m finishing up, I hear a familiar sigh, and then Killian’s voice.
“Liam, buddy, how many times am I gonna have to ask you to fuck off before you get the hint? Am I being too nice? I can be meaner.”
Eyes wide, I look up. “Um, excuse you. He’s welcome here. You’re not. He’s staying, and you can go.”
Killian’s eyebrows rise. “You sure about that?”
“I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
Despite saying that, and despite what a fucking jerk he’s being right now, my masochistic heart feels a squeeze of relief at seeing him that boggles the fucking mind.
Why would I feel relief seeing the source of all my pain?
It’s a momentary lapse, one that’s easy to vanquish when poor Liam quickly gathers his books and murmurs, “That’s okay, I should be going anyway.”
“Going where? We’re going to the same seminar.”
But it’s pointless.
He starts to walk away without his notes, and I have to call out, “Liam.”
He turns back, and I hold his notes up expectantly. “You forgot your notes.”
“Oh.” Flushing, he snatches them and then hurries away.
“There you go, Liam. Take your notes and get the fuck out of here.”
Once Liam has fled, I glare up at Killian. “You’re a bully.”
He shrugs. “I’ve been called worse.”
“What are you doing here, Killian? What do you want?” I ask tiredly.
Being the asshole he is, he drops into the seat Liam just vacated. “I hear today’s seminar’s really good. Didn’t want to miss it.”
“Uh-huh. I imagine you’re really into condensed matter and biological physics.”
“It’s a passion, really.”
“You need to go.”
“Nope.”
“This is next-level audacity,” I state, looking over at him. “Truly, someone should make you a trophy and then shove it right up your ass.”
He smirks. “I don’t like things up my ass, but you can’t really be surprised by the audacity. You’ve ignored all my texts. How else was I supposed to reach you?”
“You weren’t. That’s what it means when someone consistently ignores every single message you send them. It means they don’t want to talk to you.”
“Wouldn’t know. Haven’t experienced it before. But I took it to mean you wanted to see me in person, so here I am.”
I shake my head, looking down at my nearly complete physics notes and then my word salad. I stack them together and shove them in my notebook, then I put my things back in my bag.
Before I lift the heavy ass thing, I walk over to the cookie table to grab one more of the red velvet ones because they were delicious and I’m still hungry, then I retrieve my bag and slide the strap over my shoulder.
“Well, seeing as you’re a devoted student of the sciences now and this auditorium isn’t big enough for both of us, I’m leaving. Enjoy your seminar,” I say, then I turn to go.
He’s off the couch and after me a second later.
“Brynn, wait.”
“No, Killian,” I snap, whipping around to face him. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to even show up today? I got no sleep. I am exhausted, physically and emotionally. I don’t have the energy for this.”
He’s not so glib now. “I get that. You don’t think I feel the same way?”
“Well, I certainly can’t tell.”
I really can’t, and it’s fucking annoying. I look like a homeless lady who lives in the park and steals the odd scraps tossed to nearby birds, and I feel even worse than that. He looks like a carefully selected profile picture.
I’ve never hated how goddamn effortlessly attractive he is more than in this moment.
More gently, but also a little bit like an asshole, he says, “Well, maybe if you answered my text messages, you’d know.”
I glare at him. “I don’t text engaged men. Sorry.”
With that, I turn back around and storm out of the lounge.
The bastard follows me.
“See, when you say it like that, it doesn’t sound like you’re really sorry.”
“Killian, I swear to god…”
“Hey, come on, stop.” He grabs my arm, making me stop, but we’re alone in the hallway now. “I’m serious. I need to talk to you.”
“I have nothing to say to you. Unless you’re telling me you’re not marrying Sloane, I have nothing to say.”
That kills the last remaining sparkle of amusement in his blue eyes, and as unhinged as it is, I almost feel guilty.
“It’s not that simple, Brynn. I wish…” He trails off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter right now. But I know I fucked up a lot for you, and I want to fix it.”
“I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, maybe. I don’t care. You’re getting my help anyway. Have you checked your bank account today?”
“No,” I say, frowning.
He nods at my bag. “Give it a look.”
Scowling even more, I pull my phone out and quickly log into my online banking.
The balance should say I have about $45, so my heart drops into my stomach when instead it says my balance is $10,046.28.
Eyes wide, I look back up at him. “What the hell is this?”
“In the interest of not letting you walk headfirst into any more walls I’ve built without a warning, I should tell you that when I called you off work to go to Paris, I didn’t exactly just call you off for the weekend.”
I stare at him. “What?”
“I quit both jobs for you.” When my eyes bulge out angrily, he goes on. “In my defense, you don’t have time to work, Brynn. You really don’t.”
“I have to work,” I tell him. “I don’t have a network of powerful friends who help me get ahead, Killian. I need a job to show I have income—”
“You don’t need a network,” he interrupts, “you’ve got me. If the income is an issue, I’ll co-sign. My income is more than sufficient for any apartment you could want. What’s in your account now is more than enough to get yourself set up in an apartment. You don’t have to live with anybody, and you damn sure won’t be stuck living at the Zeta house. I’ll put more money in your account next month, and I’m going to buy you a car since yours is God knows where. If you want to go with me to pick it out, we can go Friday. Otherwise I’ll buy you something myself, but either way, you’re getting a car.”
“You cannot buy me a car.”
“Yes, I can.”
“What will Sloane think?”
“I don’t give a fuck what Sloane thinks. I care about you, so I’m going to fix as much of this mess I made for you as I possibly can.”
I cross my arms and lift my eyebrows. “Does that include apologizing to Liam for acting like a jealous asshole when you have literally no right?”
He scowls. “Fuck no. Did I not tell you just yesterday that if I see you with someone else, I’m gonna raise hell?”
My jaw drops open. “You mean hours before your fiancée stormed into our apartment in the middle of the night? Yeah, I think I do remember that, and how fucking dare you think that still applies.”
“Damn right it still applies. That’s where the colossally unfair part kicks in, you remember that?”
“I want to hit you,” I state, feeling rage in my body like it’s a living thing.
“Go ahead.”
It feels like a dare the way he says it. Like he wants me to. And then I meet his gaze, and I can feel the heat hit me. I suck in a breath, and he sees his opening. He grabs me and backs me up against the brick wall, bringing his body far too close and caging me in.
“Don’t,” I warn him, turning my face so I don’t have to look at him. “Don’t you dare.”
“I still want you, Brynn. Nothing’s changed for me.”
“Everything has changed for me.”
“Is everything okay here?”
My heart lurches and I shove him away, moving away from the wall as Annabel Lee’s gaze moves between us.
I swallow and look down at the ground. “Yeah. Great. I was just leaving.”
Without looking at either of them, I make my way down the hall and away from the auditorium.
And because his fiancée’s friend is here this time, he has to let me go.