Her head tilts to the side, and I imagine what she’s saying. “Oh, Wyatt. You’re so funny. I just love funny guys because I’m so dumb I don’t know how to be cute on my own.” She laughs. “What is that? You think my boobs are real?” She shakes her head.
“No, Charlotte. I know they’re fake, just like your blonde hair, but I don’t care,” he says in my imaginary conversation.
“Want to touch them?” Her nasally voice suggests as fingers touch his chest. Then, she leans in.
“I would love that. I like boobs.” Wyatt’s hand grips her hips.
The bile rises, and my chest heaves. He’s touching her. She’s touching him. I know what’s going to happen next, and that will be the end of whatever I thought this is between us. I won’t ever be cheated on. I won’t ever be second best to anyone. Fuck that. There are too many reasons to be unhappy in this world, a man will never be one of mine. I want strength, love, devotion. I deserve that. I thought that’s what he could be.
Don’t kiss her, Wyatt. Don’t do it. Please don’t be that guy.
He leans in a little closer, and I fight my eyes to stay open. I want to look away, though. We’ve been living together for just over three weeks, and I’ve been . . . happy. I’ve had hope.
Her body shifts forward again, and I can’t watch anymore.
I turn around to head back so I can pack my shit. I’ll stay at Presley’s tonight, and then I’m going the fuck home. I get a few feet down the path and hear my name.
“Angie!” Wyatt calls out.
I keep going. These fucking hormones are making me weak. Tears form in my eyes, and my heart breaks a little. I don’t know why this bothers me so much, but it does. I wanted to believe that maybe there was something. Maybe I wanted there to be more. I needed him to be the man everyone says he is.
He’s clearly not. Or I’m not the girl for him.
“Angie!” he yells again.
This time the stupid tear falls. No. I brush it away. I will not cry.
His fingers grasp my arm, and I yank it back. “Do not touch me!”
“What the hell?”
“Don’t even act like you don’t have a clue why I’m upset.” I huff and step back.
He’s either the dumbest man alive or an asshole. Maybe a mix of both.
“Because of Charlotte?” He looks confused. “Nothing happened.”
“I know what I saw!” My tears fall freely now. It hurts. I’m so freaking confused right now. One minute I’m guarding myself against him, and the next I’m ready to fall head first over the cliff. My head is a mess. I want to cry and scream and kiss him all at the same time.
“Nothing happened, Angie!” Wyatt tries to convince me. “I swear! Why are you so quick to walk away?”
“I won’t be that girl! I won’t! I’m too old to deal with some guy who’s going to run around behind my back.”
“You’re being ridiculous. Absolutely nothing happened just now.”
“We have different versions of ‘nothing’. I saw it with my own eyes! You liar!” I start to turn, but then his arm is around my waist and he hoists me in the air. “Put me down you fucking asshole!” I yell, fighting tooth and nail against the way my body wants to melt against him.
His arm wraps around my legs, and he carries me like I’m a baby.
“Nope.” He trudges forward. “You’re clearly not going to listen. So I’m going to make sure you can’t run away.”
I continue to struggle in his arms, but he looks unfazed. I slap against his chest, but he pulls me closer. “Put me down!”
Wyatt stops walking but doesn’t release me. He lifts me a little closer so we’re nose to nose. “For the third time, nothing happened.” His eyes hold mine as he continues. “I wouldn’t let anything happen. I saw where she was going, and I pushed her away. When I turned around to walk away from her, I saw you and ran after you.”
My stupid, traitorous heart believes him. I can’t stop crying. It feels like someone is squeezing my insides. “I hate these hormones,” I mutter. Wyatt puts me on the ground but instead of letting me go, his arms snake around my back and he holds me tight. “I hate that I’m being ridiculous and crying right now! I hate that you affect me like this! Why do you make me weak? Why do the damn hormones make me a freaking lunatic?”
“Maybe it’s not the hormones.” My breath stops. I look in his gorgeous eyes that are swimming with some unnamed emotion, and I see red. Did he really just imply that I’m normally this nuts? Before I can start screaming again, Wyatt continues, “Maybe you like me. Maybe you see that I like you. Maybe it hurt to think that I would be with someone else?” Wyatt probes as his words sear through me, cooling my anger as fast as he ignited it.