Page 64 of A Wreck, You Make Me (Bad Boys of Bardstown #3)

He’d been trying to reach me and I hadn’t checked my phone.

They did the engagement in private, and it was never their intention to announce it to the world.

Not for a while. Out of respect for me, of course.

But things like this never stay hidden, and the whole world found out before me.

So yeah, it was a sucker punch and yes, I lost my fucking head for a little bit.

Poison overtook my veins, and I almost got into a fight with Stellan, my twin slash coach, for pointing something out about my form.

Ledger had to be the one to stop it. Later, I almost got into a fight with Ledger and Riot intervened.

At which point I punched him , or tried to, but then some of the guys held me back.

Long story short: I left practice early and drove around for hours. And missed my playdate with Snow, making me the worse shithead on the planet.

But I realized something later. Yes, it may have been the engagement that had gotten me upset because it came as such a shock.

But it was more the fact that she wasn’t there, my Little Strawberry.

It was more the fact that I couldn’t text her or talk to her or hear her voice.

I couldn’t smell her or watch her fuss over Snow.

I couldn’t catch a glimpse of her in my kitchen, prepping dinner for us, especially me, religiously following the diet plan she got from Callie.

Because it’s usually her who takes care of my weekly menu when I’m in town.

I couldn’t watch her flit from room to room, picking up after us even though I make sure to never leave any mess behind or pick it up before she sees it.

I couldn’t ask her to dance for me so I could feel some peace from the world, from their pitying glances.

It was more about the fact I couldn’t go to her, the only girl I wanted to see and be with in that moment, because if I had, I would’ve done what I wanted to do, what I did two nights ago, fucked her senseless.

And she wouldn’t have liked it because she was trying to do the right thing, my good girl.

And that got me so fucking riled up that I ended up starting fights left and right.

I ended up staying out, even though she wanted me to come home, until the early hours of the next morning.

All of that to say, no I do not want to talk about the engagement or my twin brother’s girlfriend—fiancée—because it’s not even about them. Not any longer. It’s about her, the girl whose texts I’ve been avoiding for the past two days.

“Look,” Byron says, breaking into my thoughts. “You either talk to us and tell us what the fuck is wrong with you, or you can mope around instead of celebrating your sort-of comeback.”

“I don’t give a fuck about my comeback,” I say truthfully, again because she isn’t here to celebrate it with me.

Ark leans forward then, putting his elbows on his widespread thighs, his tatted fingers clutched around the beer bottle. “Okay, this I gotta hear. What could be more important than winning a game for the famous Wrecking Thorn?”

“Don’t be a fucking ass,” I mutter.

“By is right though. You tell us and maybe we can help you. Or you can sulk in your corner all night,” Ark points out.

I give him a look. “You two assholes are the last people who can help me with this.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Byron goes. “I’ve always been better at chicks than you.”

I scoff. “That’s an outright lie and she’s not a fucking chick.”

“So she exists,” Ark concludes, smirking. “And there’s trouble in paradise.”

Yeah, there is. And that trouble is me and the lengths I went to, will go to, to get my hands on her.

Even if we put everything I’ve done up to this point aside for a second, not that we can but for argument’s sake we do, what kind of a lowlife bastard asshole takes a girl’s virginity up against a tree?

Not only that, what kind of a lowlife bastard asshole doesn’t stop when he realizes how much blood there is?

And there was a lot. I could feel it then, dripping down my dick.

In the back of my head I was cursing myself for doing that to her, all the while thinking maybe the silver lining was it could be used as lube to make things easier for her.

Seriously, what the fuck ?

“I fucked up,” I find myself saying, my gut tight, my chest tighter.

“Fucked up how?” Ark asks.

I flex my fingers around the beer bottle, clench my jaw, wonder how the fuck do people do this. How the fuck do they talk about their problems? Then, “I did something I shouldn’t have done.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Byron asks from the other side.

Took a girl’s virginity up against a tree.

Who also happens to be my stepsister. I mean technically she is but not really.

Even after she said she trusted me and felt safe with me.

I should’ve stopped and talked to her, but I didn’t.

I fell on her and hurt her and made her bleed.

But the worst thing I did was to come inside her. Without protection.

Yeah, I did that too, didn’t I?

That was my second realization. After I surged inside her like a starved, obsessed maniac, it hit me.

That I was bare inside her. That for the first time ever I’d actually felt the inside of a pussy without that thin layer of latex.

It was like losing my virginity too, I thought to myself almost poetically.

But instead of sliding back out and repairing the damage, I stayed inside.

I helped her adjust to me, to my brutal invasion, instead of having a talk with her about protection and all that responsible, adult stuff.

She’s so young. So delicate. So good . She deserved that from me.

But I knew I was clean; being a famous manwhore has its perks, meaning I get tested regularly and I do not go near a girl without protection.

And I thought it was safe to continue. Not that anyone would’ve been able to tear me apart from her in that moment, but still. I should’ve told her that.

I should’ve also told her something else.

Because that’s not the only concern when it comes to not using protection.

There’s something else. There’s something much more dire than that.

And ever since I felt the soft walls of her cunt, I haven’t been able to forget that consequence.

I haven’t been able to put it out of my mind. How I can use that consequence.

How I can use giving her my baby to my advantage.

Look, it’s not my proudest moment. Coming inside her knowing what it could lead to.

Knowing that this would complicate things even further.

With our families. With the media. Even her dreams. She just started college.

She’s just started to dream again. And I know, firsthand, the toll an unplanned pregnancy takes.

Callie had one, and although she’s extremely happy now, as her big brother, I would have wanted her to not go through those uncertain, difficult times.

And while this could affect my career too, it’s way down on the list of things this could affect.

But look at it from my perspective—she keeps running from me.

She’s been running from me since the first moment she saw me.

She’s been running from me since the first moment I saw her .

And she has a habit of overthinking things, worrying about stuff—all noble stuff, genuine stuff—but also the stuff that keeps her away from me.

This will tie her to me permanently. This will keep her in my life always and forever and fucking ever. Because the truth is I’m not letting her go. The truth is she’s here to stay. Stay in my house. In my family. In my life.

And a baby with her? Jesus, I’d fucking pass out from joy.

I’d fucking touch the sky with elation. It fills me with so much purpose, so much determination, happiness that I’ve never felt before.

I’d spoil it rotten, our baby. I’d love it—her because I’d love a girl—so much she wouldn’t want for anything in her life.

Because the fucking truth is, all of this may have started because I wanted to move on from my twin brother’s girlfriend, but it’s not about that anymore.

I’m not sure when it changed but I realized it the night I was driving around, supposedly angry about Stellan’s engagement to Isadora—there, said her name and felt nothing—that I’ve moved on. I’ve finally fucking moved on.

Jesus, I can’t believe I’m saying that. I cannot fucking believe I’ve moved on.

But somehow, over the last few weeks, I haven’t thought about Stellan or Isadora even once. Every thought I have now, every feeling, has become about her. About my Little Strawberry, and losing her is not something I’m willing to do.

“I…” I begin, trying to think how much I can tell them; I’m not fucking telling them everything because it’s none of their business, but maybe I can tell them the basics. “I had sex. With… With a girl. And I need to find a way to apologize to her for it. And tell her that I wanna do it again.”

Bare and raw and without any fucking protection.

When they don’t say anything for a few seconds, the back of my neck starts to heat and prickle. My fucking cheeks start to heat up and prickle too and I swear to God, if this is what blushing is, I’m going to burn this whole goddamn club down with these two assholes in it.

Byron’s the first to break his silence. “Apologize for sex because you didn’t make her?—”

“Fuck you, yeah?” I straighten up and snap and they both smirk like the shitheads they are. “Fucking fuck you, all right, because who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? And because there’s no way I wouldn’t. Not to her. She gets it all from me. Everything. It’s just that…”

“Just what?” Ark inquires, still amused.