Page 65 of A Wreck, You Make Me (Bad Boys of Bardstown #3)

I scrub a hand down my face. “She was a virgin, all right? It was her first time and I… I didn’t take the kind of care I should have, and I hurt her and made her bleed.

And God, I fucking liked it. I fucking liked how she felt.

How…” I rub my temples because I feel like a headache is coming on.

“I just… I don’t know what to say to her now.

I don’t know how to apologize and make it better. ”

And tell her she was right to be afraid. She’s not safe with me, which means she’s going to run from me again. And this time around, I’m not fucking letting her go. So yeah, I have absolutely no clue what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.

Not to mention that promise I made to her. After.

After what happened at the tree, what I did was, I carried her to my truck.

She was too out of it to walk and there was no way I was going to take her back to the party the way she was.

All wrecked and bleeding. So I drove her home while she fell asleep beside me.

And then I carried her inside the house and put her in bed.

I cleaned her between her thighs and covered her with my sheets.

But before I could leave, she made me promise something.

“You won’t go after your dad,” she said looking up at me from the bed while I kneeled beside it, holding her hand. “Not tonight or any other night. Not ever.”

Rage had been so front and center in my brain only an hour ago, but then she calmed it down.

Her body, her scent, her skin. And because she’d started to get agitated, I nodded.

I told her I wouldn’t. I promised. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep that promise, but for now, I’m not going after the bastard who sired me. For now, I’m being good. For her.

“So what’s the story with the cell phone?” Ark asks, bringing me back to the moment.

I let out a short, agitated breath. “She’s been texting me. Just game stuff. I haven’t gotten back to her.”

She wished me good luck like she always does, told me she believed in me.

She even sent me a little clip of her dancing for me.

Which nearly killed me after how I recorded her on my phone that night.

And while I should’ve deleted the video she’d sent out of respect, like the jackass I am I jerked off to it and kept watching it on repeat until the game started.

I firmly believe we won because of her dancing for me.

In any case, I wanted to reply and ask how she was doing.

If she was okay, if there was any lingering pain or soreness.

I wanted to tell her to not stress herself, in case there was still some discomfort.

I wanted to ask about Snow, even though we’ve been texting all this time.

I wanted to tell her I was so fucking sorry for leaving, for not thinking ahead and just waiting to make her mine until I could make sure I could be there for her like I should have.

Although I don’t know how I would’ve waited, to be honest. I wanted to tell her any number of things, but they all felt wrong because I hadn’t told her the truth about myself.

My answer causes them both to sit up straight. Byron is frowning and Ark has the same expression on his face as he asks, “Wait a second, back up. When did you have sex with her?”

Closing my eyes, I rub my temples again. “Two days ago. The night before we flew out.”

“And it was her first time, and it was brutal,” Byron says.

Regret stabs me in the chest. “It was.”

“And now you’re saying she’s been texting you for two days,” Ark adds.

Something in his tone makes me pause and look up.

At which point Byron says, “So to conclude, you took this girl’s virginity and according to you, you weren’t very nice about it.

She’s been texting you for two days and not only have you been radio silent with her after such a big moment of her life”—he looks at Ark—“I mean, that’s what it is, right?

A girl losing her virginity.” When Ark nods, he goes on, “You’re sitting here moping about the fact you haven’t found the perfect words to say sorry for hurting her. Do you see the problem?”

I’m already standing by the time he finishes. Because what in the fucking hell have I been thinking? What the fuck has been going through my head? I got so wrapped up in trying to come up with the right words, the right apology, right fucking gesture that I didn’t say anything at all.

Fuck.

“Is this the girl you had me look into?” Ark asks just as I’m about to start walking away.

“Yeah,” I reply, distractedly.

“So your new sister, you mean,” Ark goes on.

“Stepsister,” I snap, anger striking my chest. “And fuck no, she’s not my sister.”

“Do you lo—” Byron asks next, totally cool and relaxed, sipping on his beer.

“That would be a fuck no too,” I cut him off before he could say the L word that I knew he was going to.

Why would I love her when love’s the most toxic thing in the world?

When love almost destroyed my life as I knew it, made me alienate my twin brother, made me distant from my own family, fucked with my career, my game.

Why would I make the mistake of falling in love again when it turned me into a poisonous creature that only knows how to bite the first time around?

Besides, I wasn’t very good at it, was I? The girl I loved left me for my brother. While I probably should’ve been paying attention to her, I was thinking about a girl with strawberry hair and cinnamon freckles. The girl I asked to be my distraction

So no, I do not love her. Love is the worst thing I could do to her.

And that’s saying something, because I have done a lot of bad things to her.

I am doing bad things to her even now. Including the fact that I haven’t told her yet.

I haven’t told her that I’ve moved on. I know she thinks I’m still hung up on Isadora, but I’m not.

And I’m not going to tell her, either, because I don’t want to give her any excuse to run.

I don’t want her to know she’s free to go.

I want the exact opposite of that. I want to tie her down, so she never leaves.

But.

For the first time in my godforsaken life, I also need to do the right thing .

Which is to make sure she doesn’t fall in love with me and destroy her life in the process.

I don’t know why people think love is such an amazing thing anyway.

It gives you nothing but pain. And I want to protect her from that.

So while I could somehow function after lying and cheating and deceiving to keep her, I won’t commit the ultimate crime and fall in love with her.

Or let her fall in love with me.

As I’m striding away, I hear Ark mutter under his breath, “Well, you keep telling yourself that,” Then, “And flowers. Get her flowers, you dumb asshole.”

Followed by Byron’s chuckle. “And prepare to spend the next two to three business days on your knees.”