Chapter 28
twenty-eight
DAVIS
Claire slaps Lucas on the chest, “you were supposed to text us before you got back. You knew she didn’t want to be around him, and yet you thought it was a good idea to fucking ambush her?”
Ouch.
“Sorry, I just thought that maybe if they were in the same room, she’d realize just how much this is hurting both of them,” Lucas groans. “I think all I did was hurt her more though.”
Steph glares at him, “and manage to break every ounce of trust we’ve built.”
I drop onto the couch, hiding my face in my hands. Everything feels like it’s actually ending, but I don’t want it to. I want to fight to get her back, and yet I feel like there’s no fight left.
How am I supposed to win back a girl who doesn’t want me anymore?
I let the girl of my dreams slip between my fingers, I made a choice that hurt her, and I didn’t even stop to think about the repercussions of my actions.
Of course she would hate me after that, she literally told me the one thing that could hurt her and I did it. I turned around and used the thing she hates most against her.
Claire is important to me, more important than anyone will ever know, but I should have let everyone else handle it. Claire has all of them in her corner, and that day —that one stupid fucking day— I was the only person in Sasha’s.
She needed me, and I let her down.
After years of fighting this fucking depression, fighting to find someone who saw me for the person I am, and not the illness that plagues me, I finally found her and then threw it all away.
I found someone who loved me for me.
The chances of me finding someone like her again are low, and even if I could… I don’t want anyone but her.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” I look up at all of them, searching for an answer.
How can I not know what to do?
“You gotta keep going, she’s just hurt, it’ll pass and she’ll realize that she misses you,” Blair offers.
Steph and Claire shake their heads, but it’s Lucas who speaks up. “She already knows she misses him, but she’s tired of being the second choice. He needs to show her that he’s going to put her first in life.”
“How am I supposed to do that when she won’t even talk to me?”
“Can Claire try to tell her what happened?” August asks.
“No, she doesn’t want to hear it. To her, it doesn’t matter,” Lucas tells us. “I’ve tried.”
This is such a fucking mess. A mess I created.
“Telling you guys was so hard,” Claire admits, “I was so scared to tell you the whole truth, but I don’t think it’ll matter to her what really happened. To her, she was the second choice, and no matter how grateful I am that Davis came and helped, I wish he hadn’t.”
“Don’t,” I tell her, “don’t blame yourself for my choice. You needed me too. It was an impossible situation.”
She throws her hands up, “but none of this would have happened if I was just honest in the first place.”
Steph hugs her, “as much as we want to help, there’s only one person who can fix this. Davis has to do this on his own, he has to prove to her that he’s all in.”
Easier said than done.
My phone call goes straight to voicemail again. It’s like the eighth time I’ve tried calling her in two days, and not a single time have I been able to get through.
I have fucking championships tomorrow, but instead of being in bed, preparing for the biggest game of my life… I’m out at a bar.
Steph texted me an hour ago saying she saw Sasha at the club. Apparently, she’s hammered.
“She’s been alone all night,” Steph tells me when I get out of my car. “I tried to get her to come home with me but she won’t listen, I didn’t know what else to do.”
I put a hand on her shoulder, “it’s okay. I’ll figure it out, go have fun.”
She smiles appreciatively and then runs off with her friends from the diner.
I give my ID to the bouncer, and when I walk in, I realize just how hard finding her is going to be. This place is fucking packed.
There’s people everywhere, dancing on one another, drinking, having fun with their friends… and I wonder why Sasha would come here. It doesn’t really feel like her scene, I don’t think there’s ever been a time when she’s wanted to be out at a bar, let alone without anyone there with her.
She almost never drinks, so hearing she’s drunk puts me on edge.
She’s alone and drunk. That’s never a good combination.
It takes me almost half an hour of pushing through the crowd, and I’m just about to give up when I see her.
But she’s not alone.
She’s dancing with someone, a fucking guy.
He’s touching her. He’s touching my Little Pixie, my girl.
Sasha sways her hips, eyes closed and head tilted back so it’s resting on his chest. She’s completely unaware of how beautiful she looks right now, as always.
Tight black jeans hug her curves, and even though I can’t see her ass because it’s pressed against the jackass behind her, I know it looks fucking amazing right now.
Her sheer black t-shirt leaves little to the imagination, her tattoos and black bralette on full display.
The same tattoos I used to trace, the same tattoos she refused to tell me about.
My cock grows stiff at the sight of her tight nipples, barely visible, but every once in a while, the light catches just right and I can see their outline.
The guy behind her has one hand on her hip, and the other caressing down her body. He’s enjoying this too much, holding her too closely, touching what isn’t fucking his.
I’m going to cut his fucking hands off.
Some may call me an asshole for thinking she can’t see another man, we are broken up after all, but the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her drives me wild.
I drive myself crazy at the thought of how many guys have seen her naked since she’s been with me, how many guys have heard her moans and seen her eyes roll to the back of her head when you hit that sweet spot inside of her.
Any time I picture it happening, I also picture the twisted smile on my face while I beat the everliving fuck out of the guy who was stupid enough to try anything with what’s mine.
It doesn’t take me long to storm up to them, finally grabbing her wrist and tearing her away from the attempted replacement.
“Johnny, what-“ she squeaks, eyes wide as she looks me up and down.
I toss her over my shoulder, not bothering with an answer because I know whatever comes out of my mouth next will be nothing but incoherent garbage. The music is too loud, we can’t have a fucking conversation in here.
The guy grabs my arm, yanking me backwards so hard I almost fall. “What the fuck are you doing man?” He yells at me.
He could have hurt Sasha. “Try touching my girl again, and I’ll drop you so fast, you won’t be able to tell the sops who did it.”
I turn before he can get another word in, enjoying the flash of fear I saw before going so, and drag Sasha out the back door. When we get to the alleyway behind the building, I drop her to the ground.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She gawks, swaying slightly.
I take a deep breath, exhaling through my nose before leaning against the brick wall and crossing my arms. “Who the hell was that guy?”
Confusion crosses her face before understanding replaces it, “you can’t get mad, you broke up with me… remember,” she says calmly.
Too calmly.
I turn around, punching the wall behind me.
I need to feel something, do something to keep me from going back in there and making sure the guy will never be able to look at her ever again.
The feel of brick splitting my knuckles open sends a wave of relief through me.
It’s fucked up, but the pain centres me for a second.
“That doesn’t mean the sight of another man touching you doesn’t drive me mad! I wanted to torture him,” I yell.
“But-“
“I regret it, okay?” I yell over her, “I regret every second I’ve spent without you.
” My chest feels like it’s about to cave in, no matter how much I breathe, it does nothing to ease the quickly growing anger.
“For fucks sake, Pixie, I’ve done nothing but watch you from afar these last weeks.
It feels like a punch in the god damn gut every time I see you smile because I know it’s for someone else, not me. ”
Her chest starts to rise faster, and it takes everything in me not to rush up, tangle her hair in my fingers and kiss the shit out of her.
Her grey eyes bore into mine, so much pain and anger flashing behind them, but when she goes to open her mouth, I talk over her again.
“You’re acting like we weren’t in love, like nothing fucking happened between us.”
I flex my fingers, itching to punch the wall behind me again, but stop myself because I’m already cut up, I still have to be able to play in the game tomorrow night.
“That’s not-“
Fuck it.
I punch it again anyway, “I fucked up, okay? I should have never left you standing there in that hallway, but fuck I need you so badly. I need you, Sasha.” My voice is shaking, and even though I’m more heartbroken than angry, you would never know it by how loud I’m yelling.
“Don’t do that.” She snaps, nostrils flaring. “Please. Be angry if you want, but don’t do that. I’ve been in the darkness for so long, don’t push me back there. Let me speak.”
That forces me to freeze. I stare at her in astonishment for a second before a small smile starts to grow, which only infuriates her more.
“Looks like my Little Pixie found her voice,” I chuckle.
She blinks, “you’re an ass.” She turns on her heels, heading straight in the opposite direction and muttering to herself about how fucked up this whole thing is.
Once again, I grab her wrist, stopping her and spinning her to face me. This is the closest we’ve been in weeks, and the heat radiating off her body makes mine react in ways I never thought possible.
“I fucking love you, Johnny, of course I do.” Tears cling to her lashes, and my heart shatters a little. “How you thought I could just forget about us so easily is idiotic. I’ve been doing nothing but grieve what could have been.”
God, I want to kiss her so badly. I want to kiss her until those tears disappear completely and we can go back to how it was.
She chokes on a sob, “the first night I finally felt like a human again, and maybe started to move on, you had to show up and ruin it all. When I saw you, I was overcome with a need to make you angry, to force you to come and talk to me. Force you to notice me.”
Wait what?
“You knew I was here?” I ask her, a small spark of hope igniting.
She throws her arms up, “of course I knew!” My heart thunders in my chest, that tiny little spark growing bigger by the second. “I can feel you everywhere, any time we’re in the same room together I can feel your presence. It’s impossible to miss you, you command a room like no one else.”
I reach for her, but she steps back before I can do anything.
“And all that shit you just said, it makes me think that maybe we have a chance, which is fucking stupid because why would you pick me for a second time when every girl on campus is in a single-file line waiting for-“
She doesn’t step back fast enough this time, and my arms wrap themselves around her waist. Not a single word is spoken between us as a few tense beats pass. “Say you’ll take me back,” I whisper.
“I don’t think my heart can take any more pain.” Her voice is hoarse, and a single tear drops from those concrete eyes.
“Just say it,” I urge.
She closes her eyes, “I am not the same girl you met after her brother died, Johnny. I’m stronger, I refuse to be used as a doormat anymore. You made your choice that night, and I’m making mine now…”
No.
“Leave me alone. We’re done, over, finished.”
I grab her hand when she tries to walk away again, “come to the game tomorrow.”
She looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind, and I don’t think she’s entirely wrong.