Page 55 of Don't Say You're Sorry

Turning around, I say, “Answer the question.”

He lowers his gaze and runs his hand over the back of his neck. “I guess he didn’t care enough. He didn’t care about anything,” he adds quietly. “He was miserable here. Is that what you want to hear?”

No. It’s not.

My jaw clenches, my nostrils flaring as my eyes burn with tears that I refuse to let fall. Not in front of him. He’s seen and heard enough.

I want to ask him why he kept him here, why he kept him away from me if he knew he was miserable, but I don’t. I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to that.

“You haven’t packed much,” I say, changing the subject.

Heading for the kitchen, he turns the kettle on and grabs two mugs from the cabinet. “I’m not coming back to Hawthorne. I’m staying here.”

I thought as much. “Why?”

“I changed my mind.” He shrugs. “I have a life here. My friends. My job. I can’t just leave.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t really have a choice now.”

He gives me a questioning look over his shoulder.

I smile at him. “I already paid off your landlord and told him you’d be out by the end of the day.”

The spoon he’s holding clatters on the counter.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Nope.”

He glares. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

“Because if you’re still here, he can run back to you. I’m not letting that happen. Not again.”

He raises his brows. “You’re insane.”

“You’re damn right.” Stepping closer to him, I grab his jaw and crowd him, his back pinned to the counter. “Stay the fuck out of my way this time.”

He doesn’t flinch. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll tell him what you did.”

He laughs, though there’s no confidence behind it. “You think he’d believe you?”

Some of that fight returns to me, but I resist the urge to headbutt the fucker. That wouldn’t score me any points with Adam. Not unless I tell himwhyI came all the way out here to break Axel’s face.

“I’m not talking about Adam,” I say with a smirk, enjoying the way his face falls. “Pack your shit so we can go home. Our little brother’s waiting for me.”

With that, I release him with a shove and pick up the cup of tea he made me.

Making myself comfortable in Adam’s former bedroom, I grab the TV remote and watch a moviewhile Axel begins packing up the apartment.

CHAPTER 21

ADAM

Istep out of the bathroom, toweling off my wet hair, my bare feet soft against the bedroom floor. When I look up and see someone sprawled on my bed, I nearly jump out of my skin. “Fuck! Easton,” I hiss. “You scared the shit out of me.”

He says nothing. Doesn’t comment on my nakedness or the fact that I don’t bother to cover myself up.