Текст книги "Believe"

Автор книги: Erin McCarthy

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Chapter Thirteen
Phoenix

Ten o’clock and nothing. No phone call, no text, nothing.

It was stupid, I knew that, to think that my mother would remember it was my birthday, let alone an important one like my twenty-first. Hell, she probably didn’t even know what day of the week it was. She probably didn’t even remember the exact date of my birthday.

Not hearing from her was no shocker.

Yet it still hurt.

Frustrated, I finished sweeping up the shop and waved to the guys, two still doing tattoos. Bob was letting me leave early since it was my birthday and I had Robin waiting at her place for me. It was only a fifteen-minute walk and I’d be with someone who did love me.

So why did I give a shit about the woman who didn’t love me?

Because I was a pussy, apparently.

Feeling my mood darkening, I tried to shake it off, touching my side where my new tattoo stung. I decided to take the bandage off before I left and I peeled my shirt off and removed it, yanking hard on the edges, enjoying the sting as the tape tore at my skin. Not many people understood that I didn’t mind the pain from the needle during a tattoo. I kind of liked it. It made me feel sharp, alive.

Tossing the bandage, I ducked into Paul’s open cubicle to check out his work below my ribs. The skin was shiny and red and swollen, but damn, it was a fucking amazing tattoo. Robin stared back at me in the mirror, her eyes big and raw. It was a sketch I’d started the first day we’d spent together, at the park, while she had leaned on her arm and stared out across the grass to the fountain, lost in her thoughts. Then she had turned and glanced at me, and I had seen something even then that had told me there was a connection between us.

It had grown stronger and stronger and now she was with me all the time, literally and figuratively.

The placing of the tattoo was the opposite side from my bleeding heart tattoo, because I didn’t want them to be in the same line of view at the same time. Two different meanings. Two different women.

“You done admiring yourself?” Paul asked, bent over a girl’s rib cage.

It looked like she was getting a dream catcher tattoo, which seemed to be in the top five tattoos for girls eighteen to twenty-three. It rivaled flowers, stars, and hearts for first place. I wondered what nightmares pretty young girls had that they seemed to think they needed to tattoo on their bodies as a way to capture them. Or maybe they wanted to hold on to good dreams. Funny how I always went to nightmares.

“Not yet,” I told Paul. “Not to brag or anything, but this is a sick tattoo. I love it.”

“How is that not bragging?”

That made me smile, yanking me a little out of my brooding mood.

“Let me see,” the girl said.

I moved over so she could see my side by turning her head. She was petite and pretty, probably popular at college. She looked collegiate, with her hot pink shorts and her delicate gold jewelry.

“Oh.” Her mouth formed an O, and her eyes went wide. “That’s beautiful. Is that your girlfriend?”

That was enough to make me feel a stupid swell of male pride. I couldn’t help it. “Yeah, it is. Thanks.”

“God, she is so lucky you would do something like that.” She gave an odd little laugh that was tinged with sadness. “Not a lot of guys would do that.”

The sound made me ashamed of my first reaction to her. What, like average suburban college girls didn’t go through rough shit? Robin was proof of that. So sure, I’d had a less than ideal childhood, but fuck, we all hurt.

“I’ve been told I have a little crazy in me,” I said. “Most guys just bring flowers, and I’ve never done that.”

“Some guys don’t do either.”

“Then they’re pricks,” Paul said, shading a feather.

She smiled. “True.”

“It looks good,” I said, gesturing to her tattoo. “Paul does good work, you’ll be happy with it.”

“Thanks. Has your girlfriend seen that yet?”

“Yeah, she came up right as Paul was finishing it up.” Tossing my shirt over my shoulder, I said, “But I’m out of here. See you tomorrow, bro.” I held my fist up for Paul and he paused in his work to tap me with his elbow, keeping his gloved hands clear.

“Happy birthday, jerk-off,” he said.

I grinned. “Thanks.”

“It’s your birthday?” the girl asked.

“Yes. Twenty-first.”

“Oh, wow, happy birthday then.”

“Thanks.” I waved to Paul and everyone else on my way out, pushing the door open to the warm night air. There were ashtrays on either side of the entrance and I wrinkled my nose at the stale smoke, moving away quickly.

Pulling my shirt back on, I headed down the street toward Robin’s, checking my phone again.

Nothing.

* * *

Climbing the stairs to Robin’s apartment, I was looking forward to sliding into bed next to her and just holding her in the dark. The lap dance, if she was really serious about it, could wait until tomorrow. Exhaustion seemed to have settled into my bones and I wanted a glass of milk and sleep.

Maybe I was on edge. God knew I was always suspicious. But when I pushed the door open, which wasn’t locked, I knew instantly something was wrong. The hallway that opened to the kitchen was dark, and there were shadows on the stairs leading up to the living room. I sensed immediately someone was in the house, waiting in the dark. I could hear breathing, the slight rustle of clothes as they crouched. Tensing, I stood still, letting my eyes adjust to the lack of light. Debating whether I should go to the kitchen for a knife first, or if turning my back on whoever it was would be stupid, I calculated distance between me and the stairs.

Chances were Rory and Kylie were either down the hall or with their boyfriends. Which meant Robin was upstairs by herself and the intruder was between me and her. So I forgot about getting a knife and moved fast. Head down, I connected with a body, and there was a grunt of shock. Masculine, solid, strong, was my instant assessment. Using the element of surprise, I yanked and twisted, kicking his knees out from under him, so he tumbled to the floor with a hard thump and a curse. I landed on his chest, and I was pulling my fist back to knock him unconscious when I heard multiple voices and a girl’s shriek.

What the fuck?

The lights came on suddenly, blinding me momentarily.

Then I realized I was about to punch my cousin. I was on top of Riley and he was staring up at me, amusement on his face.

“Get off me!” he said, shoving at my chest. “And happy birthday, asshole.”

“What?” I fell back onto my heels and looked around, confused. Robin, my cousins, Jessica, Rory, and Kylie were all on the stairs and Robin was holding a sign she had painted that said, “Happy Birthday, Phoenix.”

“I don’t get it,” I said stupidly, because I didn’t get it. My heart rate was slowing back to normal. “Dude, I thought you were an intruder,” I told Riley. “I was about to beat the shit out of you.”

“I figured as much. But it was supposed to be a surprise birthday party.”

“Surprise!” Jayden yelled, raising his fists up and shaking them.

Easton was trying to climb the banister to the second floor and he said, “It’s your birthday, bitch.”

That made me laugh, breaking the tension I’d been feeling.

“Easton!” Tyler reprimanded.

Robin’s eyes were wide. “Sorry, Phoenix, I didn’t think . . . I just thought it would be fun to surprise you.”

She looked so upset I felt bad. I stood up and leaned around Easton to give her a quick kiss. “Oh, you definitely surprised me. Thanks, babe.” I reached my hand out to Riley to help him up.

“At least we know we’re safe if the house is ever broken in to,” Kylie said cheerfully. “I mean, you were basically about to rearrange Riley’s face. How awesome is that?”

“Super awesome,” Riley agreed, then rolled his eyes.

“I could hear breathing,” I told him. “No one should be breathing in the dark.”

“I have a cold,” Jayden said. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s cool, U,” I said, giving him a fist bump. “Thanks for coming. No one has ever given me a surprise party before. I wasn’t expecting it.”

Jayden gave me a look like I was the one who needed the short bus. “That’s why it’s a surprise.”

He had me there. “Good point, man. I stand corrected.”

Hell, I’d never had a birthday party at all, let alone a surprise birthday party. For my twentieth, I had taken Angel to Olive Garden, but she had embarrassed me by getting pissed at the waiter when he wouldn’t let her order a jack and coke. Then the bill had come, and I’d felt sick that I had spent fifty bucks on a dinner that I hadn’t even enjoyed. My nineteenth birthday I had spent in line for unemployment after I got laid off from my factory job. My sixteenth birthday had sucked because I had realized I couldn’t get a driver’s license because my mother couldn’t find my birth certificate.

This year, I’d already thought I was a thousand times ahead of the last half dozen or so birthdays.

But this?

Fucking awesome.

“We have cake upstairs,” Robin said, still clutching her sign. “Maybe we should go up.”

Jessica nudged Riley. “Phoenix really got the jump on you.”

“He did not,” my cousin protested. “Another thirty seconds I would have had him on his back.”

I doubted it, but I wouldn’t want to go a round with Riley if he were really pissed or if he was protecting his family. He could be feral. I guess that was one thing Tyler, Riley and I all had in common besides blood.

“Thanks for doing this,” I told Robin, taking her hand as we went upstairs. “This was really sweet.”

“I’m sorry,” she said with a sheepish shrug. “It was stupid to be in the dark like that. I should have known better.”

“You know what? I’m glad you don’t think the way I do. I’m always assuming the worst and you’re not. That’s a good thing.”

But it was clearly bothering her. She was quiet as we went into the living room, and I frowned. Was this too much of a clear reminder that I was a criminal? I couldn’t help it. I had grown up with dangerous drug dealers and Mom’s loser boyfriends in and out of my house. I was always looking over my shoulder and that wasn’t going to change, probably ever.

There was also no denying that I was damn uncomfortable getting presents. It was a foreign concept, and as Robin put out a tray of appetizers and Kylie tossed around cans of pop, I looked at the presents being set on the couch next to me in awe. “All these are for me, seriously?”

“Open them!” Easton demanded.

I picked the smallest one first because it seemed less intimidating. It was a SpongeBob gift bag and it looked like a drunk monkey had stuffed the tissue paper into it.

“That’s from Jayden and me,” Easton said.

“Thanks, man,” I said. “And a gift bag and everything. We’re getting to be legit, aren’t we?”

“There’s a girl in the house now,” Riley said with a shrug. “Jess thinks that crap is necessary.”

Jessica smacked his arm.

“I picked it out,” Jayden said, already cramming a handful of cheese off the tray into his mouth. I didn’t envy Riley and Tyler having to keep him in food. The guy could pack it away.

Which was evident in the gift he’d given me. It was five king-size candy bars. “Damn, thanks, guys. I’ll have my sugar fix, that’s for sure.”

Easton was reaching out like he was going to steal one of them back and Tyler swatted at his hand. “Knock it off.”

I grinned at Easton. “Dude, there’s cake, you know. Chill. And thanks.” I looked at Jayden. “Both of you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jayden said, with a regal nod that cracked me up.

Next was a sketchpad from Rory and Tyler and a charcoals case from Riley and Jessica. Yeah. That was a fucking lump in my throat. My cousins looked as awkward about the whole gift giving as I felt, with Tyler making a point to mention that everything was Rory’s idea.

“So if it’s stupid, don’t blame me,” he added.

God, we were all such brats when it came to emotion. Why were any of them insane enough to be with us?

Rory frowned at Tyler. “Really?” she asked him.

“That didn’t sound right, did it?” he asked.

“No. It didn’t.”

He shrugged. “I’m sorry. But this . . .” He gestured to the food, the paper party plates that declared “Happy Birthday!” and the cake that had been airbrushed with a cobra on it. “We aren’t used to it. We don’t know how to act.”

“My plan wasn’t to make you uncomfortable,” Robin said, looking upset.

“You’re not,” I assured her. “It’s just that no one has ever done this for me. For any of us. I’m . . . what’s the word?”

“Touched?” Kylie suggested.

I winced. That sounded so . . . tender. But it was the truth and Robin deserved to hear that. “Yes. Touched.”

Jessica burst out laughing. “You sound agonized. It’s ridiculous. But Phoenix, we understand. Everyone has baggage, just in a different brand. Now let’s eat cake. You can open your gifts from Robin when you guys are alone because I have a feeling that’s going to make all of us uncomfortable.”

“Good idea,” Riley said.

“Cake!” was Easton’s opinion.

Robin said, “I forgot a knife.” She moved toward the stairs and I followed her.

“Hey.” I took her hand. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

There were tears in her eyes and I felt like shit.

“I should have asked you. I’m sorry. But I just thought you’d like it.”

“I do like it.” I pulled her to a stop and into my arms. “Robin. Why do you do that? Why do you always think that what you do isn’t enough, or important, or whatever? This is perfect. The best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“Really?”

“Really.” How could she think otherwise? I kissed her softly, loving the way her lips felt beneath mine. “Mm. Who needs cake?”

“Easton will implode if we don’t cut it,” she said with a smile.

“True.” I pulled a knife out of the drawer.

She went in the freezer. “One more thing.”

She pulled out a box with a bow on it. Dilly Bars from Dairy Queen. “Holy shit, how did you know I love those?”

“Because when we first met you said you’d probably spend your birthday eating one by yourself, enjoying your freedom.”

“I did?” I asked, stunned that she remembered that. I didn’t even remember saying it. But she was right. That was exactly how I had imagined spending my birthday. I had a lot more than that, all because of her. “Babe. You’re the best. I love you, do you know that?”

“I love you, too.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out as we walked back upstairs. And smiled when I saw the text.

Happy Birthday Turd. Mom

So she had remembered after all. It meant a lot, maybe more than it should. I showed the screen to Robin. “My mom remembered my birthday. And Turd was her nickname for me when I was a kid. Cute, huh?” I answered with a “thanks.”

“She loves you,” Robin said simply. “Even if she isn’t always good at showing it.”

“I know.” I did. Expecting more was asking too much.

Upstairs Jessica was on the couch and laughing as Riley pinned her down. It looked like he had cake smeared on his mouth. “I cut the cake,” she said, wheezing as he bounced her up and down on the cushion. “Sorry, Phoenix. I should have waited.” Riley gave her a cake kiss and she screamed and turned her head.

But I was actually relieved. It took the pressure off a whole candles/cake-cutting thing where everyone would be looking at me. A corner of the cake was already missing and Easton was swiping his finger across the wax paper and eating globs of frosting left behind. “No problem.” I took the knife from Robin and cut a chunk out and held it up with a grin. “Come here, babe.”

I expected Robin to dart away, but she surprised me by moving so fast I didn’t react. She lifted my arm and slammed the cake right into my face. It was creamy and crumbly, and I jerked back as Robin grinned at me.

“Is that what you mean?” she asked.

Which of course everyone found hilarious.

“Badass, huh?” Tyler snorted. “You can hear breathing in a dark room but you can’t beat your girl in arm wrestling?”

“Suck my dick.” I wiped my face. “Hey, by the way, look what I did today.” Fingers covered in frosting, I lifted my shirt up and showed them my new tattoo. “Pretty awesome, huh?”

“Dude.” Tyler nodded in approval. “That is killer. You draw that?”

“Yep.”

“OMG!” Kylie screamed. “Robin, that’s you!”

Robin laughed. “I know. It would be pretty awkward if it was someone else.”

I snorted. “Cute.”

Riley shook his head. “You’ve screwed us all, man. Now they’re all going to expect portraits.”

“I’m not tattooing your girlfriend’s face on my body,” I told him, expression deadpan.

Riley laughed and gave me a slap on the back. Hard. “When did you become such a comedian?”

“That’s Robin?” Jayden asked, bending over to take a closer look. “I thought it was Selena Gomez.”

Jessica shot pop out of her nose and started choking as she laughed.

“Christ, you’re killing me,” I said, holding my side. Damn, laughing made my tight skin pull even harder.

But there was no way not to laugh.

“I do not look like Selena Gomez!” Robin said, giggling.

“It’s a compliment,” Rory told her. “She’s very pretty.”

“Muy caliente.” Robin grinned. “And that, my friends, is sadly the bulk of my Spanish. Oh, and feliz cumpleaños.”

“Gracias,” I said. “But I think you’re way hotter.”

“Don’t tell me you know Spanish.”

“A little. I took it in high school.”

Robin laughed. “You’re probably better at it than I am. It’s my personal failing.”

Cutting another piece of cake, I bit it. “Cosita, we all have plenty of those.” I held the cake square in the air like it was a glass. “Here’s to another birthday above ground.”

“Cheers,” Robin said with her Diet Coke.

Chapter Fourteen
Robin

When I was a kid, birthday parties followed the same pattern—lots of food, lots of people, lots of inexpensive presents, a massive cake, and running around the yard like we were filming a remake of Lord of the Flies. There was a lack of parental supervision and an excess of sugar. They were perfect afternoons, and the only thing that changed from year to year was the decoration on the cake. My mother didn’t go in for big themes or extravagant luaus or bowling parties or water parks. She thought spending hundreds of dollars on a kid’s party was beyond their budget and created unreasonable expectations for the next year.

I never missed having a bounce house or pony rides. Birthdays were about the joy of running wild and tearing off wrapping paper and the added bonus of accidentally nailing my brother with the piñata stick. It worked for me.

Which was why I was relieved when Jessica broke the ice at Phoenix’s party by swiping some of his cake. He had been so painfully uncomfortable opening his gifts that I had known I had messed up. I should have warned him about the party. He wasn’t the kind of guy you sprung a surprise on, as was obvious when he attacked Riley thinking he was a burglar.

Whoops.

But once he had relaxed, I thought he’d had fun, and now we were alone in my room, sitting on the bed, and he was opening the other presents I’d gotten him, the shirts and the shoes.

With his back against the wall, he held everything up and studied it, and he looked genuinely pleased. “I don’t know how to say thank you,” he said. “This is . . . everything was . . .”

“I know.” I squeezed his hand. “You’re welcome.”

“How is your tattoo feeling?” he asked, turning my wrist.

“It’s fine. It stings a little, but it’s so small, it feels like a bee sting, that’s all. Everyone thought it was cute. The real question is, how is yours?”

“It’s fine.” Phoenix slouched, the new shoes propped next to his feet, a Rolling Stones T-shirt lying on his chest. He puckered his lips at me, asking for a kiss.

He was so damn cute, how could I resist that?

But I did. “I have one more surprise.” I stood up.

“God, are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked with a laugh. “I might wind up assaulting someone else.”

“If you assault anyone other than me in the next half an hour I’m going to be very upset,” I said, and then before I lost my nerve, I peeled my dress off over my head and let it drop to the floor.

His jaw dropped, and he made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “Holy fuck . . .”

That was a good response, one that made me feel slightly less self conscious about standing in front of him in a completely see-through bra and thong. They basically didn’t even need to exist, that’s how much coverage there was. It was pretty much just red netting, the kind they wrap mints in at weddings. I had also gotten a bikini wax for the first time in six months, and I felt sexy. Slightly unsure what to do with my hands, but sexy at the same time. No vodka required.

Phoenix set his gifts on the nightstand and sat up straighter. “What happens next?”

“Naked enthusiasm.” I tapped my phone on the nightstand, and it started playing music off the sexy-times playlist I had created. “Why don’t you sit on the edge of the bed in front of me?”

Phoenix crawled across the bed without further encouragement, his jeans sliding down his hips, hair in his eyes. The muscles of his shoulders rippled, and I sucked in a breath, no longer self-conscious. I was just hot for him. Very, very hot for him. When he was facing me, legs spread, palms flat on the bed, his gaze smoldering and sexy, I started to move, dancing slowly. Not like I did in a club, not with a manic bouncy energy, but just a slow, sensual swaying, lifting my hands into my hair to pull it back off my face.

Turning, I watched him over my shoulder, personally aroused and proud of myself, feeling together, happy, whole. I owed him that, for thinking I was beautiful when I was broken, hair dirty, clothes haphazard. Ironic how people would look at him and assume dysfunction, when I was the one who had needed him.

His lips parted, and his eyes dropped down to my ass. “Am I allowed to touch?”

“No.” Slowly, I finished the rotation and climbed onto his lap where I gyrated, making sure he got plenty of cleavage in his face. But I wasn’t quite as confident in that position that I wouldn’t fall on the floor, so instead I shoved him onto his back to gain better leverage.

“I think I’m about to become a man,” he murmured.

That made me smile as I spread my hips and kissed my way down his chest, flicking my tongue over his nipples. He was plenty of man long before he met me. Sitting back up, I slowly undid my bra and peeled it off, tossing it to the side. I had him pinned as I straddled him, and I pushed my hair back again, enjoying the feel of power over him. His nostrils were flaring and his eyes were heavy with lust.

My original thought had been to go down on him but given the position I was in and how inconsequential the thong was, I decided to go with what was right for the moment. Shifting the scrap of fabric to the side and rising up a little, I realigned our bodies so that I sank down onto him, clamping his thighs with mine, free hand gripping his chest. Phoenix gave a low moan, his eyes rolling back. I felt a moment of pure feminine satisfaction that I had done that.

As I started to move, I asked, “Is the kind of lap dance you had in mind?”

“Even better.” Phoenix held onto my hips and pumped up into me. “And all I have to say is happy fucking birthday to me.”

I would have laughed except I was too busy having an orgasm.

Maybe his party had been a success after all.

* * *

“Girls’ Night!” Kylie shouted as she ran up the stairs a week later, shaking a bottle of vodka in the air. “Let’s go, bitches!”

She was wearing short shorts and wedges and a stretchy top that stopped just below her bra. Jessica was similarly dressed, though she wasn’t showing as much skin. Rory was sitting on the couch in a floral dress with her leg crossed, foot bouncing up and down. I was wearing a sundress and cowboy boots because that felt right, comfortable to me. Going out to a club was a huge step for me. I had no intention of drinking, no desire to, nor did I want to sex it up. I just wanted to go and dance and have fun with my friends.

“Who is in for a shot before we go?” She had Dixie cups in her other hand, her gold bracelets rattling as she spread the cups on the coffee table. “Robin, I didn’t bring a cup for you because I didn’t think you’d want one.”

“I don’t. Thanks.”

“Don’t worry, I already did your shot.” She winked at me.

I couldn’t help but laugh. That was so Kylie. “But you know what, I’m going to do a shot of Diet Coke with you guys.” I went down the hall to the bathroom and got another cup and poured some of my soft drink into it as Kylie poured out the shots. I didn’t want to be totally left out. It was stupid, like why did it matter? But I still wanted to have that camaraderie, that connection.

So I raised my cup along with theirs and drank it like it was alcohol. It certainly burned a lot less going down. And I didn’t have that same reckless, fist-pumping, let’s-get-fucked-up feeling surging through me.

We all set our cups back down.

“Whose phone is blowing up?” Jessica bent over and glanced at the screen.

I realized it was my phone. “Oh, it’s probably Phoenix. He’s getting off work right now.”

“It’s Nathan,” Jessica said with a puzzled laugh. “Why is Nathan texting you?”

And just like that my face went hot and my entire world came shattering down around me.

“What?” I asked, with a weird little laugh that didn’t sound normal. I knew it didn’t sound normal. Neither was my grab for my phone. “Why would Nathan text me?”

But the phone was already in Jessica’s hand and Kylie took it from her, giving a confused laugh. “Did he text you by accident? God, are those guys trashed already? It’s not even ten yet!”

My heart was racing and hot bile rose in my mouth. “Kylie. Let me have my phone,” I said, desperate for her not to read whatever Nathan would have written. It couldn’t be good. It wouldn’t do anything but hurt her.

Now Rory was leaning forward on the couch, looking confused, and Kylie was narrowing her eyes at me. “Why?”

“Let me have the phone,” Jessica said, her voice urgent.

She knew. I could tell that she knew. Or at least suspected that it would be bad. Very, very bad.

“No.” Kylie turned her back on us and read the text out loud, “‘When are you going to break up with that loser?’ What the fuck does that mean? Why would he care if you’re dating Phoenix?”

“Oh!” I said, like I had just realized something. “It must be my cousin Nathan. My family isn’t super thrilled with me dating Phoenix.” Lie. Total lie.

“You have a cousin named Nathan?” Rory asked.

“Yes.” No.

“I didn’t realize that your family was upset about Phoenix,” Jessica said. “Dude, I can so relate.”

My family didn’t even know Phoenix had been to prison. They just knew he was a tattoo artist, nothing more. I was giving it another month or two before I brought him to Sunday dinner.

But none of that mattered because Kylie knew I was lying.

She turned around and stared at me, shock on her face, her thumb still on the screen where she had clearly been scrolling back through the texts.

It had been careless to not delete them. But maybe at the same time, I wanted proof that Nathan had been contacting me and I never answered, or told him to stop. Especially in the weeks after it had happened. Or maybe I wanted her to know that he wasn’t a nice guy at all, if this ever came out.

But whatever the reason, now those awful texts were the very thing that made my terrible secret no longer a secret.

“Kylie,” I whispered, shaking my head, not knowing what to say, what to do. There was a buzzing sound in my ears, and the tears were already there, blurring my vision, blurring the horrible sight of her staring at me looking like I had stabbed her repeatedly.

“You fucked my boyfriend?” she demanded. “You fucked my boyfriend? How could you do that, Robin?”

“What?” Rory gasped. “She wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that.” She looked to me for confirmation, but I couldn’t deny it. “Oh no,” she said weakly.

Kylie made a sound of disgust and looked at the phone again. “May 31. Text from Nathan reads, “Last night was effing amazing. Let’s do that again.” June 3. Text from Nathan. “Is it weird that I think your pussy tastes better than chocolate?”

Oh, God. I shook my head, stomach churning. “Stop. Don’t read any more of those.” I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like I was going to faint.

“Don’t?” Her finger came up, and she was crying now, heaving sobs. “Fuck you! How could you do that to me? I thought we were best friends. Oh, my God . . .” She dissolved into tears.

I was crying, too. “I didn’t mean to! I don’t even remember it, Kylie, I swear to you. I totally blacked out and when I realized . . . God, I was just sick. You have to believe it, I would never, ever hurt you.”

“Well, you have!” she shrieked. “Drunk is no excuse. None.” Then suddenly she was texting on my phone, crying and tapping and sniffling.

Oh, shit. “Kylie, don’t . . .” That was so not a good idea. She was texting Nathan on my phone. I reached for it in a panic.

But she just put her hand out and glared at me. “Don’t even, Robin, I am so serious right now. I will cut you.” Her voice was venomous.

“Just give me the phone,” I pleaded, reaching for it again.

But Kylie shoved me, and I stumbled.

“Okay, let’s just calm down,” Rory said, eyes wide as she came around the coffee table. “Kylie, maybe we should go outside and talk about this.”

“I want to see if that fucking asshole answers.” Kylie wiped her nose with her finger, her perfect French manicure neat and tidy against her streaking mascara and leaking nose.

I closed my eyes briefly, knowing that she was not going to see what she wanted to. That she was only going to add to her hurt.

“Oh, look, he answered,” she said, waving the phone and giving a watery laugh. “What was that, about a minute? Can’t remember the last time he answered me that fast. But then again, my pussy doesn’t taste like chocolate. And I can’t remember the last time he wanted to fuck me hard, which was what he suggested to you in one of these twenty-seven text messages. Yes, twenty-seven!” She took a breath, then her lips moved as she silently read.

“What did you write to him?” Jessica asked nervously.

Did it matter? It wasn’t going to change anything. My hands were shaking, and I was sobbing myself, not even sure what to say to defend myself. There were no words to make this better and I hated myself all over again.

Kylie didn’t answer. She just suddenly lunged at me with a shriek, her nails catching me across the face before I could react. The sharp pain and the flailing arms caused me to scream, too, and I threw my hands up to block any further blows.