Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I don’t know what we’re doing out here together. Rhett and I aren’t friends, but when he starts talking about what it was like going to Harvard like his dad, and how weird it is to be back, I listen.
“You’re not going with Morgan? When he leaves?” he asks, which I hadn’t expected. I know Morgan wouldn’t have told him he asked me to go.
“Nah. Why do you ask?”
“I always assumed the two of you are together.”
I look away, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. I wish it were the time of year to see the northern lights. They’re my favorite. It’s like living in a fantasy. “Just friends.”
“My brother is a dick.”
“No, he’s not,” I snap.
“Yes, he is.” Rhett takes another gulp.
“You don’t know him like I do.” I pick at a blade of grass, twisting it around my finger. The thing is, when it comes to Rhett, Morgan is an asshole, but Rhett is one to him as well.
Rhett is quiet for a moment, before we start talking again. He asks about the auto body program I’m in and about cars. I still don’t know why we’re out here, what we’re doing, but he actually isn’t so bad. He makes me laugh, and however fleetingly, I forget I’m heartbroken.
The pain doesn’t go away. I don’t think it ever will, but the whiskey mixed with the conversation helps me to push it to the back of my head for a little while because…what am I going to do without Morgan? What if the Morgan-shaped hole he leaves inside me never heals?
Shit. I’m thinking about him again.
My chest feels like it’s being ripped apart, head spinning, world collapsing.
“Dusty?” Rhett slurs my name a little. I realize he said something to me I missed.
“Hmm?” I turn to him. We’re both leaning against the lighthouse, our faces…close.
“Hi,” Rhett says softly.
“Hi.” We stare at each other, neither of us moving. Why aren’t we moving away, leaning back, doing something?
I’m so fucking lonely, so sad, that it feels like the pain is eating away at my brain, at any and all good sense I have. I just want to feel something good, something that doesn’t hurt or make me feel empty inside. I need to feel wanted, connected.
I can’t say how we go from being a few inches apart to our lips touching. Was it me or Rhett? Both of us? I don’t know and maybe never will.
The second my tongue sneaks into his mouth, I know it’s wrong. This isn’t who I want. He’s not Morgan, but he’s here, and kissing me back, and Morgan is leaving.
Morgan, who is my best friend.
Morgan, whom I love.
Morgan, whom I’ll never have like this, never know what he tastes like.
“What the fuck!” Morgan cries out, and for a moment, I think I imagined it because Morgan’s not here and this isn’t happening. I don’t want to kiss Rhett. Why the fuck would I do that?
We rip apart and shove to our feet. Before I can get a handle on what’s happening, Morgan is charging Rhett, tackling him, knocking his brother to the ground. He pulls his arm back and swings, fist connecting with Rhett’s face. “What are you doing? You don’t get to touch him! He’s mine.” Morgan punches him again.
Whiskey tries to climb up my throat. I want to move, make every attempt to, but it’s like my limbs don’t work, like my feet grew roots and I can’t pull them out of the ground.
“Morgan, get off him. It’s not what it looked like.” But it is what it looked like. Rhett and I were kissing, and Morgan saw.
He turns to me, and it’s the distraction Rhett needs. He flips them, and this time it’s him holding Morgan down, punching him. My heart is hitting my chest just as hard as they’re hitting each other, but I finally get myself to move, lunging at Rhett and knocking him off Morgan. “What the hell is wrong with the two of you?” I shout.
Morgan pushes to his feet, both Rhett and I still on the ground. He spits the blood from his mouth. “Fuck you, Rhett. You did that on purpose. You kissed him because you knew it would hurt me.”
“Or maybe I just want him and he wants me. It was a hot fucking kiss,” Rhett sneers.
The thin restraint Morgan had comes undone, and he charges Rhett again. I manage to throw myself between them, and Morgan stops, not putting his hands on me. Not fighting me.
“Get out of the way, Dust.”
“No.” I put my hand on his chest, but he rips away from me.
“Don’t touch me. I can’t believe you…” He runs a hand through his hair, tugs the strands, shakes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what happened.” I want to tell him I would be his if he wanted me, that I wished he cared because the thought of someone else having me was like physical pain, the way it felt when I thought of others having him, but the only reason he cares that I kissed someone tonight is because that person was Rhett. Any other man wouldn’t have mattered because Morgan only loves me as a friend.