Page 18

CHAPTER 18

Jordyn

I stare in disbelief at Tristan’s body, slumped in my desk chair, fast asleep. I close my eyes, counting to ten while rubbing them again. But when I open them, he’s still there.

Why the hell is he here? Did he watch me sleep all night?

It’s barely daylight, and I have no earthly idea what woke me, but here I am, wide awake at the ass crack of dawn on a Friday morning with a fucking puck boy slumped in my desk chair, fast asleep.

Tossing the covers back, I get to my feet and stomp over to him. When I see my Strawberry Shortcake doll clutched in his hands, something inside me snaps. It was a present from my dad on my fifteenth birthday.

I loved and cherished that doll as a child. When we moved into a smaller house closer to the hospital, she was lost in the move. I was devastated. Strawberry Shortcake symbolized some of the best memories of my childhood, and I clung to that doll for strength and comfort. Witnessing my dad so sick and frail from battling an aggressive form of cancer were some of the darkest days of my life .

Then she was lost, and I couldn’t breathe.

When I opened my gift from my dad on my fifteenth birthday and pulled the doll from the box, dread settled into my heart. When I met his exhausted, distraught eyes, I knew we were on borrowed time, especially when I saw the note he’d pinned to the back of her dress.

He died two days later.

Tristan is holding my world in his arms, and considering the way he acted and the things he said yesterday, it infuriates me. He doesn’t deserve to hold the doll who means everything to me. And he doesn’t deserve me, either.

He’s a puck boy who fooled me into believing he was different. Just like my ex-boyfriend, Joey, who broke my fucking heart when he lied to me.

I glare at Tristan, clenching my fists. I refuse to be anyone’s dirty little secret again. I’m not a plaything he can just use and toss aside.

Leaning beside Tristan’s ear, all the wrath I’m feeling rolls out of my lips like a thundercloud. “What the fuck are you doing in my room, holding my doll?” I scream.

Green eyes fly open. He blinks at me, disoriented and confused. Realization slowly dawns on his face when he straightens in the chair, shame etched onto it.

“Tristan,” I snap, out of patience. “Put the doll on my desk and get the fuck outta my room.”

His brows draw in as he looks at the doll, then at me. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here. I had to see if you were okay and?—”

A brittle laugh rolls out of me as I cross my arms over my chest. “You’re pretending to care about me. That’s rich, especially after last night.”

He blows out a breath, lifting his hand and running it through his hair. I hate that my body heats as his bicep ripples, and I have to force my eyes away. “I know it sounds bad, but?—”

“Sounds bad?” A bitter taste is in my mouth from the venom spewing from my tongue. Leaning over him so I don’t wake Josh, I hiss, “You fucked me in the shower, then disappeared and ghosted me. When you returned, you acted like an asshole and seemed interested in fucking that slut, Janelle.” Rage makes my hands shake. “Get your ass up and march the fuck out of my room. You aren’t welcome in here ever again.”

He stares at me, not saying a word. It infuriates me.

I grab the Strawberry Shortcake doll, but he refuses to let go of her. Anger burns in his eyes, but mine is more potent right now. It’s laced with the bitter sting of broken trust and betrayal.

“Just let me explain,” Tristan says through clenched teeth.

“No. I’m not listening to any more of your lies. Let go of my doll, dammit.”

“I need you to listen?—"

“I don’t need to do anything, jackass.” My chest heaves as the words spill out of me, laced with the bitter sting of betrayal. “I gave you a piece of me in the shower, and you know damn well what I’m talking about.” My mouth is as dry as cotton, and I choke out, “I foolishly believed you when you said I was special and…”

His grip on the doll loosens as pain contorts his face. I snatch her away, clinging to the one thing that’s always been there for me. She represents the one thing I desperately want but can’t have right now—a hug from my father.

“ Get out , Tristan, and don’t come back.” I whip around, turning my back to him as I carry my doll to the window and stare blankly at the yard, trying to keep my trembling body from breaking right in front of him. He’s stolen enough from me. He doesn’t get to see me break.

I hear his footsteps moving to the door. His voice is low and full of regret. “I’m sorry, Jordyn. I… I d-didn’t mean for things to turn out like this.”

I don’t turn around. The thought of looking at him sickens me.

Gathering my strength, I spit out words I don’t mean. “Go fuck Janelle in the ass, Tristan.”

When the door closes behind him, I break, sobbing into my doll’s hair as I slump to the floor.