Chapter Seven
Gage
By the time lunch rolls around, I'm full of restless energy, desperate to set eyes on Troian, to make sure she's okay. Her eyes were red and puffy when she came to class, like she'd been crying again. I want to know why. I want to hold her. I want to fix everything I've messed up between us.
I just want her, dammit.
I slip between the stacks, heading for the alcove in the back corner where she likes to hide out when she wants to escape from our classmates and pretend this place isn't hell for her.
I hate myself for not realizing that I was the reason a long time ago. Now that my eyes are open, it's all I can think about. It's all I can see. All the barbs, all the bullying, everything she's tolerated and endured…it's all been because of me.
She deserves so much better.
I don't even know where to start making it right, but I have to try.
It takes her ten minutes to finally make it to the library. Ten minutes for me to pace a hole in the floor, driving myself crazy with anxiety.
By the time she appears, I'm ready to snap, so I'm not really surprised when I'm on her as soon as she steps into the alcove, pulling her into my arms.
"What are you doing?" she growls, shoving me away from her to glare at me.
"Sorry." I take a step back, raking my hands through my hair. "I just…" I inhale a deep breath, but it doesn't make me feel any calmer. I still want my hands on her. I still want her body against mine. I still want the same damn things I did two seconds ago. "I'm losing my mind, butterfly."
"Clearly," she snaps, dropping her bag to the floor before crossing her arms to scowl at me. "What do you want, Gage?"
"You were crying this morning."
She rolls her eyes at me.
"You were, butterfly. You can't lie to me."
"Oh. You mean like you lie to me?"
I gape at her, shocked. "When have I ever lied to you?"
"Hmm. This morning, maybe?" Her eyes flash, her cheeks flushing. "You told me that you don't have a girlfriend, but that's clearly not true since you were with her last night."
"What the fuck are you talking about? I was filming that damn soap commercial last night."
"Victoria just couldn't wait to make sure I knew all about you guys," she says. "About how beautiful she is and how she's so much better than 'the thing' with the sad, fat face that follows you around."
"That bitch," I snarl. Of course, Victoria is filling her head with lies. But that's my fault, too, isn't it? I lashed out at her this morning, and this is how she decided to punish me for it—not by coming for me, but by coming for Troian.
"It's nothing she hasn't said to me before," Troian mutters.
"But you know what was different this time, Gage?
This time, I realized she's actually been doing me a favor in her own messed-up, bitchy way.
She's been trying to tell me for years that you don't care about me.
I refused to see it because I thought…" Her voice cracks.
"I thought you were my friend, but you were never that. "
"What? I've always been your friend, Troian. Your best friend."
"No, you haven't," she whispers sadly. "I was just the na?ve little girl who didn't see what was right in front of her face."
"That's not true!" I growl, stalking toward her until she's backed into the corner with nowhere to go.
My heart pounds like a drum, fear and anxiety rushing through me in a current.
I feel like I'm losing her, and I don't even understand how or why.
"You've always been the only thing I've ever seen. "
"No." She shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes. "You never saw me. You never saw…"
"Saw what?" I ask when she trails off without finishing her sentence. "Tell me, butterfly."
"It doesn't matter."
I cup her cheek, breathing her in. "It matters to me."
She bites the inside of her cheek, shaking her head.
"Tell me. Please."
"You never saw what was right in front of you," she says, her voice cracking again as a tear rolls down her cheek.
The sight of it wrecks me. Troian wasn't made to cry. She should only ever know laughter. She should only ever feel happiness. That's what she deserves. That's what I want to give her.
"I see you," I whisper, pressing my forehead to hers.
"I've never seen anything except for you, butterfly.
There is no girlfriend, and there never has been.
Victoria is lying because I told her the truth this morning—that she will never compare to you.
All she'll ever have are these few years, where she tried to make you feel small to try to make herself forget that she has never once been able to outshine you, and she never will.
You're better than her in every way. You're better than all of us. "
Troian whimpers softly, another tear rolling down her cheek.
"You think there could be another girl for me?
" I ask, brushing it away. "How could there be when I've been at your side for the last few years, praying you'd notice me?
When I've never been able to see past you?
When I've been trying to find a way to finally, finally show you… show you…" Words fail me.
I don't know how to tell her that I've been waiting all this time for her to see me, to love me the same desperate, wild way I've always loved her.
When I've been trying to be good enough for her.
So I stop relying on words. I stop trying to talk her into seeing my point.
I can't do that, not when I've already spent so long fucking it up at every turn.
"Show me what?" she asks.
"This," I growl, sinking my hand into her soft hair to angle her head back.
Her breath shudders against my lips, and then mine are on hers. They're so soft beneath mine, so sweet, so perfect. I groan softly, pulling her closer, flicking at the seam of her lips with my tongue just to taste her.
Her lips part on a whimper. I take the invitation, slipping my tongue into her mouth to taste her in the way I've wanted to do since the very first time she smiled up at me. It's even better than my dreams. She tastes like peppermint and sunshine, like all my dreams are coming true all at once.
I'm not sure who gets carried away first—probably me. But within seconds, the kiss is burning out of control and so are we. Sounds from the rest of the library vanish as I press her deeper into the alcove, my hands moving across her body the way I've always wanted.
Her soft whimper wrecks and rebuilds me at the same time.
I know I should stop before this gets too far…but I don't. She's here right now, kissing me back, and I don't want to be rational or stop. I'm greedy for her. So I don't stop.
I slip my hand beneath her shirt, groaning when I feel her soft skin beneath my palm. I slide it up, brushing my thumb across her hard nipple and then over the old, brutal scar from her surgery. I want to strip her bare and kiss every inch of that scar.
The fact that she has it means she's here right now, her heart beating beneath my palm. It means she's real and alive and healthy. It's beautiful, just like the rest of her.
"Gage," she whispers.
I drag my hand down her abdomen, loving the way she quivers and trembles. She doesn't tell me to stop when I slide my hand under the waistband of her pants. She doesn't even tell me to stop when I slip them lower.
"You're so wet, butterfly," I rasp against her lips, trying not to lose my mind at the feel of her soaked panties beneath my fingers. "Do you want me?"
"I…I…"
For a minute, I think she's going to tell me no. I think she might kick my ass and haul balls out of here, but she shocks both of us when her wild green eyes flick to mine, her expression searing me.
"Yes."
I groan softly, burying my face in her throat as I flick her panties aside.
She bites her lips, choking on a moan as I touch her for the first time, sliding through her juices to circle her clit. She's burning hot against my fingertips, and so damn wet. My dick presses insistently against my zipper, begging for release. But this isn't about me. This is about her.
I grind against her clit until she's panting and trembling in my arms.
"Let go for me," I whisper, wanting—needing—to feel her fall apart for me. "I've got you, butterfly. Just let go."
Her nails dig into my shoulders, her face pressed against my throat. She unravels so sweetly, panting and quivering against me. She's a dream in my arms, so damn perfect as she comes.
At least until someone slams a book down on the other side of the library.
She jolts in my arms like a frightened little rabbit in the sights of a wolf.
Before I can say anything, she's pulling away, putting distance between us like her life depends on it, her eyes wide and wild. She doesn't look like the beautiful woman who just fell apart in my arms. She looks…scared.
"Troian—"
"Don't," she whispers, throwing up one hand while grasping for her bag with the other. "Just don't, Gage. That shouldn't have happened."
"Yes, it should have," I growl, taking a step toward her.
"No, it shouldn't!"
"Why not?"
"Because…because you don't love me." Her shoulders droop, the life bleeding out of her expression. What it leaves behind is devastating.
"What?" I rock back on my heels, stunned.
"Just leave me alone," she whispers, practically begging. "Just let me finish this year in peace, without being everyone's favorite target. I'm tired, Gage. I'm so damn tired!"
She turns, fleeing with tears in her eyes. And I feel worse than I did to begin with. This isn't what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to leave knowing that I love her, that I've always loved her.
Instead, I fucked up.
Again.