What Twisted Webs We Weave

Expensive Mistakes

(Patrick's POV)

Something was wrong with me. Not in the physical sense. I was perfectly healthy. My brain was the problem. I couldn't concentrate on anything. My attention span was fickle beyond belief. My mind clouded with thoughts of Pete. Thoughts of Pete's dick, to be precise. I mean, the rest of the man's body was nice. He was nice. He was great. Of course he was. I didn't just go falling in love with anybody. Pete was a special man inside and out. But it was his outside that invaded my memory. His outside parts being inside of me actually.

That quicky tonight was- was fucking spectacular. Pete and I were sexually compatible. I'd figured out that much in college. And then when we met up afterwards, things were just as riveting. He'd never lacked in that department. But tonight ... tonight was on a whole new level. He touched me like he meant it. Like it was the last time he was going to touch me and he wanted me to remember it. I never came that quickly before while bottoming. He branded me with his sex and now I couldn't focus on anything else.  My body didn't even feel like my body anymore. It was Pete's now. It's always been Pete's.

Even as we crowded the dance floor of the club we partied at for Jon's birthday, I was thinking about it. My drink was in my hand. Girls and boys I didn't know danced around me. But it wasn't enough to engulf my attention. Not even a little of it. My eyes scanned the dark room for Pete. If we were quiet and quick like before, we could do it in the bathroom before anyone noticed we were missing. My search for my boyfriend proved futile. But I did spot Ryan in the crowd. Moving his body to the music in a way that was annoyingly enticing. Of course he was a good dancer. All whores were.

Our relationship- friendship- acquaintanceship was a weird one. Of course we hated each other since college. For reasons that were obvious if you read the first book. But when Pete 'died', things shifted. He was nicer. We spoke more. He constantly checked up on me. He went to my court dates and made sure I wasn't fucking up. It was like he felt guilt for trying to take Pete away only to have me lose him completely. But then Pete wasn't dead. He came back and Ryan was his regular asshole-ish, condescending, infuriating self. And the whole thing with me fucking his boyfriend happened and, yeah. Things weren't great.

"Have you seen Pete?" I asked him.

He looked taken back to have me speak to him. But he played it off with a shrug. "I think I saw him head to the bathroom."

I nodded. Scurrying away from him to head to the bathroom. The restroom was surprisingly empty and clean. Pete was clearly not in there. I doubt Ryan actually saw him. He just wanted to send me on a wild goose chase. Jokes on him, I realized I had to pee when I walked in. I stepped into one of the three stalls. Pushing the bolt on the door and releasing the five drinks I had that night. I was zipping up my pants when someone burst though the door.

They sounded like they are in distress. Instead of getting out to help like a normal person, I stood there. Squinting though the crack in the door to see who if was. At first it was impossible to see anything but colors as they paced. By luck they stood still in front of the door long enough for me to get a good view of Tyler. Tyler? What the hell was his problem?

I was about to step out and blatantly ignore his need for some kind of help, until I heard sniffling. He was crying. Why the hell was he crying? Now I wanted nothing more than to stay in my stall until he left. I wasn't too good with tears. Not even my own.

"Okay, were alone." That wasn't Tyler. That was a voice I knew all too well. I adjusted my potion to see closer to the door. My eyes confirmed that the voice belonged to my best friend. "Tell me why you're upset?"