When it was time for the band to go onstage, a sneer was on my lips. I couldn’t contain my satisfaction. I’d changed the lineup so that we were playing every I hate you, you suck song we had in our arsenal. I needed to vent, and I was going to do it through music to help prevent me from doing it with my mouth.
I knew the second Kiera understood that my set list was about her, in feeling, if not by the lyrics. The one we were currently playing was one fans often misinterpreted as being about one-night stands. It wasn’t, but I played it up that way, so Kiera would think it was. Yes, it’s about meaningless sex. And yes, Kiera, I’m dedicating it to you, and the meaningless sex we shared. As I sang, I flirted the hell out of the audience. Too sexual? You haven’t seen anything yet, Kiera.
Kiera gaped at me, and I swear her eyes misted over. It hurt me some to see her in pain, but I pulled my anger tighter around me and trudged onward. She was just upset because I was calling her out, not because she cared. She’d never cared. It had all been a lie.
The next morning, I felt a little better. Sure, I was being a dick, but being an asshole was better than brooding or curling up into a fetal position because some bitch had devastated me. Fuck that. I’d survived worse.
I was reading the paper and drinking my coffee at the table when Kiera stepped into the kitchen. She looked nervous yet irritated when I glanced up at her. I watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. I thought she might say something to me about my performance last night, but instead, she made a cup of coffee. Liquid courage perhaps?
By the time she sat at the table, I was invested in my paper, or at least, I pretended to be invested. I’d read the same paragraph three times. I considered ignoring Kiera, but purposely not speaking to her would imply that I cared. And I didn’t. We were nothing, and that was fine. Just fine.
“Mornin’,” I said, not bothering to look up.
“Kellan…”
I looked up at her. What, Kiera? What more could you possibly want from me? Because I’ve got nothing left for you.
“What?” I snapped.
Avoiding eye contact, she whispered, “Why are you mad at me?”
What? Did she really not get what she’d done to me? How she’d treated me like meat, just like every other girl I’d been with? That, until that moment, I’d thought we were different? I’d thought I loved her. No…I did love her. I do love her. But I needed to hate her right now, so I had to push all that aside.
“I’m not mad at you, Kiera. I’ve been exceedingly nice to you.” Even though she wasn’t looking at me, I gave her a snide smile. “Most women thank me for that.” And write me off, just like you did.
Anger flashed in her eyes as she looked up at me. “You’re being an ass! Ever since…”
She stopped talking. She still couldn’t say it, she still couldn’t talk about sex. Well, if she couldn’t bring it up, then I wouldn’t either. Why should I make this any easier for her? In fact, I think I’ll ignore it altogether. I returned my attention to my article and my coffee. “I really don’t know what you mean, Kiera…”
“Is it Denny? You feel guilty…?”
That irritated me, and before I could stop myself, I snapped out, “I’m not the one who cheated on him.”
She flinched at my words and bit her lip, like she couldn’t believe I would go there. I hadn’t meant to, but her comment got to me. Of course I felt guilty. I owed Denny everything, and I’d betrayed him…for absolutely nothing. I’d risked it all, and for no damn reason, and if Denny ever found out, he would never forgive me.
“We used to be friends, Kellan,” Kiera whispered, her voice warbling.
That comment got to me too. We were friends once, and then so much more. Or I thought we’d been more, but that hadn’t been the case. I’d been a blanket to keep her warm when she’d been cold. Nothing more.
I began to read the article again. “Were we? I wasn’t aware of that.”
Pain and heat were in her voice when she responded to my callous comment. “Yes…we were, Kellan. Before we—”
Her words were opening up wounds I was trying to let scab over. I didn’t want to talk about this. My eyes rose to hers, cutting her off. “Denny and I are friends. You and I are…roommates.” The term was distasteful in my mouth, but it was the truth.
Her cheeks flamed with anger as she gaped at me. “You have a funny way of showing friendship then. If Denny knew what you—”
Again, I let my rage get the best of me. “But you’re not telling him, are you?” I bit out. Calming myself, I resumed reading the paper. Each printed word I spoke in my mind brought my temper down a notch. But calming down let the sadness in, sadness I didn’t want to feel. I mulled over the worthless feeling in the pit of my stomach. Why was I so impossible to love? I knew I needed to get angry again to shove this pain aside, I just didn’t have it in me at the moment.