Chapter 21 #2
Disappointment and hurt flicker across her face, but she nods, swallowing it down.
My thumb brushes over her bottom lip, unable to fight the need to touch her.
When her eyes flick up to mine again, I’m a goner, not thinking twice as I press my mouth to hers.
This kiss is slower, sweeter, devastating. I’m lost in the taste of her. Trying everything I can to pretend we’re not in a bar bathroom. Pretend this isn’t a secret that could derail everything I’ve worked for. Pretend we’re just two people, caught up in the moment.
I pull away first, despite every atom of my being craving more. Craving her. Wanting everything I can’t have.
We linger longer than we should. Someone’s probably noticed we’ve disappeared, but I’m not in any rush to break this moment, so we take our time. Adjusting our clothes, stealing kisses, clinging to the final remaining pieces we’ve been granted.
She moves toward the door but I grab her arm, pulling her into me and resting my forehead against hers. I breathe her in, knowing this feeling ends the second we walk back out there.
She laughs quietly, breathless. I don’t know why—nerves, release, the absurdity of what we just did—but it makes me laugh too.
I wish circumstances were different. I wish we could forget the rules, forget the risk, forget that she is leaving.
I wish we could just be.
Her and me—floating in our little hidden pocket of the universe.
But wishes don’t always come true.
The reality slams back into me, the blaring music outside these walls a brutal reminder of what this is. All it can be.
She stares down at our intertwined hands, squeezing once before taking a deep breath before finally letting go and reaching for the doorknob.
I follow right behind her as she slips out into the hallway. Probably not the best decision when we are supposed to be under the radar, but sneaking is the last thing on my mind right now.
Sadie stops abruptly right outside the door, completely frozen. I almost collide with her, my hand immediately finding her hip, reaching for her out of instinct.
“Whoa, what’s wrong?” I murmur into her hair.
But then I see him.
Lane.
He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His gaze rakes over her, then to me, then back again—piecing together every fucking detail. Her flushed cheeks. My hand on her waist. The fact that we just walked out of the same bathroom together.
His jaw shifts back and forth. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
The high shatters in an instant.
Sadie stiffens and I step in front of her without thinking, blocking her from his view.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Back off.” My voice is low and controlled, even though I feel anything but.
He laughs once but it comes out like a scoff, short and bitter.
“Unbelievable,” he mutters, shaking his head. “After all the shit you gave me? And now you’re—what? Fucking her in a dirty bathroom?”
Sadie flinches behind me, and I want to break his goddamn jaw.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut your fucking mouth,” I bite out.
His eyes shift to her. “I fucking knew I wasn’t making it up. You think this means something to him?”
Sadie swallows, her voice quiet. “Lane, don’t do this. You’re drunk. Just walk away.”
But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he leans in closer, whiskey heavy on his breath. “Tell me—do you make them all take turns, or do they get to use you all at the same time?”
There’s no warning, no thought—just pure, unleashed rage and the crack of my fist slamming into Lane’s jaw.
He stumbles back into the wall, clutching his face and cursing through his teeth.
My fists are still clenched at my sides. I’m so angry I’m shaking. Every fiber of my being begs me not to stop, to hit him again, to put him through the fucking wall.
One hit isn’t enough. Not after what he said. Not after he looked at her like that.
This does mean something to me.
She means something to me. She’s more than I’ll ever deserve.
The words burn in my throat, desperate to crawl out and confess everything.
But I can’t.
Admitting the truth would blow everything apart.
“What the fuck is going on?” Landon’s voice echoes down the hallway.
He puts himself between us, one arm braced against my chest, the other stopping Lane before he can lunge at me. Landon’s eyes flick between us, assessing the situation. He doesn’t need the details to figure out what happened.
Lane spits blood onto the door, glaring at me with glassy eyes. “Fuck you—”
“Shut your fucking mouth.” Landon cuts him off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’ve done enough.”
Lane mutters something under his breath, but he doesn’t push it. Even in his state, he knows better. He staggers back a step, then another.
My jaw grinds. My fists ache from clenching. I want to turn to her, tell her he was wrong, that she matters to me. But when I glance back—
She’s already folding in on herself. Arms wrapped tight around her ribs, eyes glued to the floor, like if she makes herself small enough, she can disappear.
Minutes ago, she was coming apart in my arms, gasping my name like it was the only word she knew.
Now she feels woefully out of reach.
And that is worse than Lane’s drunk rambling. Worse than the bruises already blooming on my knuckles.
“That’s your last strike, Lane. You won’t get another.” My voice comes out low, gutted, more a promise than a threat.
Landon stares at me, then at her. He’s not stupid and I couldn’t be more obvious. I already know he’s going to tell me the same thing he said last time. But for now, he blows out a breath and shakes his head. “Alright, kids. Time to call it a night.”
My eyes drop to my fist, skin split open and smeared with blood. Not sure if it’s mine or Lane’s or a combination of both.
I’m still fuming, my pulse raging in my ears. But nothing compares to the hollow ache of watching her shut down again. The weight of everything we can’t say hanging between us, and the fear that I just fucked everything up beyond repair.