By the time I made it to the parking lot a few blocks away where we'd left Dec's truck, tears were burning in my eyes. I hated myself for crying, but I'd let my crush on him take over my life and now I had nearly nothing to show for the last six years.
I felt hollow.
I didn't even want to wait for him. I could leave the keys on the hood and hope nobody took them. It would be better to walk home than have to look at him right now.
No boyfriend, no other real friends—I was stuck in the same town where I'd grown up, pining over the same guy I'd always known was off-limits. I had stayed here to help Dec out after the accident, knowing that both he and his old man needed an extra hand or two in the months following. I'd put off college, dreaming of somehow using that time to make him see in me what I'd always seen in him, if nothing else good could come of it. And I'd been happy to do it, happy to help out my friend and his dad, even if that's all he wanted to be.
And here I was, just as painfully lonely and beaten down as ever.
And Dec? He didn't even care! He knew exactly how I felt, he knew exactly what he did to me, and instead of shoving me away or stepping out of my life, he tormented me with his presence every day.
Like I was a toy he could play with and toss back in the trunk when he was done with it.
Like he didn't know he was shredding me to pieces.
By the time I reached the truck I was nearly in hysterics.
I tried to shove the keys into the door, but my hands were shaking so badly I dropped them onto the blacktop.
They hit the damp pavement with a metallic clatter and I ducked to grab them.
I had to pause on the ground for a minute, grit digging into the knees of my jeans, the taste of bile in my mouth. Cold bit at my cheeks and tore at my eyes, waking me up a bit. I grabbed the keys just as footsteps sounded behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see Dec, and found myself staring down the blade of a knife.
"Give me the fucking keys," the voice behind it demanded, and I felt my heart go still.
YOU ARE READING
LEO AND DECLAN 1: Under His Touch
RomanceI knew how much of a cliche it was to go and fall head over heels for my straight best friend. Declan was always the hot, popular jock. Me? Not so much. But you know what they say: you always want what you can't have... Except now? Maybe I can. Note...