Psycho Ex Boyfriend (Standalone New Adult Romance) (The Alpha Brotherhood Book 2) (12 page)

He trails off and I wait for him to finish. “A little extra attached?” I offer.

“Maybe.”

“’Cuz I’m riding that high myself.” I tuck myself closer to his body as a blast of frigid air hits us.

“Okay, good,” he breathes, kissing the top of my head and wrapping his arm tighter across my shoulders. “I’m not the only one.”

“I’m assuming I’m not the only one that’s positively starving,” I laugh.

“God, no. Wanna hit that hot dog place around the corner? It’s about the only thing open.”

“Yeah, I think we have time.”

We’re still munching on the cold french fries as we climb up the rickety wooden stairs to the platform.
When
are they going to upgrade this stop?

It’s always difficult to say goodbye, but this time we hold on to each other harder and longer than usual. Two whole weeks apart, and almost another whole week after that before we get to see each other after school. I hope nobody rents that apartment. I don’t know how I’m going to handle the summer.

“Have fun on the cruise,” he says, kissing me and squeezing my hands in his. “Not too much fun.”

“Adam…” I’m expecting him to laugh it off, but his eyes narrow at me serious. “Stop it!”

“Fine,” he concedes. “Call me if you ever get a chance, though.”

“
Do not
drive yourself crazy if I can’t. I doubt there are any pay phones on the cruise ship and all of our port destinations have a jam packed itinerary that’s been meticulously designed by my Mother for maximum cultural exposure.”

“That better be the only kind of exposure.”

“I’m sure I’d easily be able to slip away to send you an email, but
somebody
is too paranoid about electronic communication,” I tease him. “I have to go.”

Adam lets out a frustrated grunt and pulls me back into his arms for another kiss. He gently bites my bottom lip at the end. “Be good.”

He smacks my ass playfully before jumping back onto the train to go home. Heather gives me a strange look when I get in the car, making me paranoid that girls actually do look different after they’ve had sex. I know I’m pushing my luck. It’s only a matter of time until I get caught.

Sabrina

Age 15

“Sabrina,” says a male voice from behind me. It isn’t Adam’s.

“Oh, Roderick,” I reply. “Hi.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I guess I kind of snuck up on you. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He takes the seat on the bench directly next to mine. “So, I really liked that oral exam you gave on Moby Dick last week. Queequeg was my favorite character, too.”

Mine was actually Starbuck, but I thought I’d get a better score reporting on Queequeg. “I thought you were assigned Wurthering Heights.”

“Aw, you remembered,” he says, grinning at me. “I was. But I read Moby Dick just for the fun of it. Plus it’s a classic, you know? It’s bound to come up in college and I don’t want to be in the dark. I had to read it.”

“Sure.”

Adam is sitting a few benches away from us. He glares at me for a split second, his eyes absolutely furious. This is the third time that ‘call-me-Rod’ Roderick has struck up a friendly conversation with me since the weather got nice enough to spend the lunch hour outside. At first I was able to delude myself that he was just chatting because I’m like the only black student in the freshman class, and maybe he is, but he’s definitely sending out signals that I need to shut down.

“Heathcliff was such a jerk. The callousness of his character made it difficult to get immersed in the book,” he says, shifting into a more comfortable sitting posture that tells me he’ll be staying a while. “If anything, I identified more with Kathy. I know that sounds crazy because she’s a woman, but...”

He blathers on about the complexity of the Bronte sisters and I start to tune him out, focusing on Adam’s frustrated sideways glances instead as I try to find a way to end this conversation politely. Gah! This is the point where I’m supposed to tell the guy that I have a boyfriend and be done with it. But,
no
. I have to keep this huge secret. It’s bad enough that I can’t rub our relationship in the faces of all the girls who relentlessly flirt with Adam.

“So, do you read a lot?” Roderick asks.

Yeah, I’m reading right now, moron. And you’re stealing my chance to sit less than twenty feet from my boyfriend and covertly flirt with him!
“I read quite a bit, I guess.”

“Really? What genre? Anything contemporary?”

“Uh,” I stammer. “Some.”

“Cool, so do I. You know, this school really needs a book club that discusses modern literature. So many of our assignments focus on the classics, but the world has changed so much since then, right?” he laughs nervously. I nod reluctantly. “Anyway, sorry to interrupt. You were saying?”

I wasn’t saying anything! Maybe I’ll be able to scare him off by talking about Harry Potter. I rattle off a list of a few of my favorite authors, doing my best to ensure that my body language is about as unfriendly as it gets. But it doesn’t really matter because Roderick latches on to a book we’ve both read and starts chattering on and on and on. Adam gets up and storms off, distracting me. Crap!

The bell finally rings, but then Rod just follows me to my next class because it’s also his. Geez, dude. Take a hint.

Adam doesn’t answer any of my phone calls that evening. I try to convince myself that he’s probably busy, but I know he’s pissed off at me. I stay awake long into the night, cursing myself for not finding a way to end that unwanted conversation, politely or otherwise.

My actual boyfriend is unusually stone faced the next morning, even for him. I click my pen in third period to request a library meet up and he snorts out a laugh. My heart sinks and I squirm in my seat. We haven’t indulged in any rendezvous lately after a student saw Adam slip out of the storage closet a few weeks ago. Plus, now that we’re actually doing it, being in an enclosed space for more than ten minutes is a really bad idea.

Lips quivering as I fight back tears, I frantically click my pen again, earning a frustrated look from our teacher. Roderick is seated right between us and leans over to ask if I’m okay. What the hell! Could this get any worse? I let out an embarrassingly loud growl and bury my head into my folded arms, wiping my nose on my sleeve.

“Sabrina, are you alright?” the instructor asks, seeming genuinely concerned.

Adam stares at me through the corner of his eye, his head facing straight ahead. I give him until the count of three to toss the scrap of paper he already has wadded up on his desk into the trash can.

When he doesn’t, I ask, “I’m not feeling very well today. Can I please use the restroom?”

“Sure.”

Mrs. Taylor pulls a pad from her drawer to right me a hall pass as I stand impatiently in front of her desk with the entire fricking class staring at me. Except for Adam, of course. When I’m walking to the door, that ball of paper flies across of my path, barely making it into the garbage.

The promise of meeting up with him is the only thing that keeps me from faking sick and convincing the nurse to let me go home early. I splash some water on my face and try to shake it off, but I still end up crying a little bit in one of the stalls and come back to class with a reddish nose. Thankfully, the teacher is in the middle of a lecture and Roderick doesn’t get a chance to say anything to me, but he still keeps giving me concerned glances. Fuck off!

Adam is already in the storage room when I get an opportunity to slip in unnoticed. My chin dropped, I look up at him apologetically. It just makes his eyes narrow into slits.

“I’m not falling for it,” he says coldly.

“Falling for what?”

“You don’t get to flirt with another guy three times and then go running off into the bathroom crying like I’m the one being an asshole.” He lets out a bitter laugh, leaning against the wall.

Three? Adam wasn’t outside the first time Roderick struck up a conversation. I couldn’t see him, at least. Does that mean he was watching me from a distance?

“I didn’t flirt with—”

“Then why the
fuck
do you look so goddamned guilty?” he yells. His booming voice echoes off the brick walls.

“Adam, keep your—”

“Don’t fucking tell me to be quiet!”

“Geez!” I protest. “I wasn’t flirting with him.”

“Really? Then why the hell does he keep chatting you up?”

“I don’t know…”

“I think you do,” he snarls, stepping towards me. I move away until my back is up against the door.

“I can’t stop somebody from talking to me, Adam. What am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Sabrina. You could maybe try doing what I do and not give them the time of day because you’re already with someone else instead of leading them on.”

“But… I don’t want to look like a bitch.”

Adam’s eyes bug out and he slaps a few books across the room. “You think I give a shit about what all those girls feel like when they throw themselves at me and I don’t say a word back? I’m only thinking about
you
.”

He’s right. It happens every day and he never even comes close to flirting back. And it’s not because of the less-than-defined rules he lives under. His brothers flirt constantly, breaking hearts and leading them on. Especially Trent. What a manwhore.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, wiping my eyes. “I really am.”

Adam rolls his eyes at my tears and turns away to stare out the window. He doesn’t get it. It’s different for me. I don’t look cool and unattainable when I blow someone off. I look like a bitch. A cold, uppity bitch. It’s not even the same for other girls because I have to fight against the angry black chick stereotype along with a thousand other different standards.

“I messed up,” I tell him. “But not because I like him or anything. I’m not like you. I don’t get attention from guys, I have no idea how to let them down.”

“It’s not that fucking hard, Sabrina.”

“We just talked about school,” I say. “
He
talked about school. He does like 90% of the talking, I don’t even…” My words fade into a sob as I reach forward and lay my hand on Adam’s arm.

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, jerking his elbow up so sharply that it almost hits me in the face. “Stop making excuses.” Adam turns around to glare at me, his nostrils flaring. “And stop fucking crying like a baby. It’s ridiculous.”

“What do you want me to say?”

A frustrated growl rumbles free from his throat. Apparently he doesn’t have an answer. “For starters, you can stop wearing this because it’s apparently meaningless.”

He reaches toward me and I try to back away, but not before his fingers catch on the butterfly pendant on my neck. The golden chain snaps and I gasp, my hand flying to my throat at the sudden sensation of its absence. I never take it off.

“You’re breaking up with me?” I squeal, my breathing getting so rapid I’m afraid I’ll start to hyperventilate.

“From where I’m standing, I’m just finishing what you started.”

“Adam! No,” I plead. “I didn’t even do anything. I have no feelings for that guy whatsoever, I swear. I promise!”

“What the fuck good are your promises?”

“Adam,
please
. I’ll do anything. I’m so sorry, this is all just a misunderstanding.”

He grabs my arm harshly and jerks it to the side, the symbol of his affection for me still tangled up in his fingers. “Then why don’t you make it crystal fucking clear to me.”

“I—”

He cuts me off with a frenzied kiss I’m not expecting. His grip on my wrist is relentless, pushing my body into the corner, slamming me against the wall. Biting my lip when I try to pull away, he forces his hand into my shirt, popping a button off as he gropes at my breast. He pinches me and I screech into his kiss, thrashing.

“Stop it!”

“I thought you said you that belonged to me,” he hisses.

He jerks me out of the corner, grabbing both of my flaying arms and pinning them to my side. My stomach drops and scalding bile bubbles into my throat as he turns me around, bending me forward over a wavering stack of boxes.

I sob uncontrollably as his hand slides up my skirt, but I can’t get my body to move. This can’t be happening. It can’t be. This isn’t him.

He tugs at my panties, pulling them down to my thighs as he pins my legs against the books. A finger forces its way inside me and I try to scream, but nothing will come out. My hearing fades into nothing after I hear the clinking sound of him unbuckling his pants and feel the heat of his erection rest on my tailbone.

But he stops. “Holy shit,” he breathes, backing off immediately after he pulls my panties back up. “Oh, my God.”

I remain right where I am, certain that I’ll fall over if I try to stand upright. The world eventually comes back into focus as my senses return. I spin around and find him down on the floor, slumped against the wall with a flabbergasted expression on his face. The necklace is lying next to him, but I don’t want that thing anywhere near me anymore.

“Sabrina…” He stares up at me, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“Fuck you,” I snarl. “You’re such an asshole.
Fuck you!
”

“I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“Stop making excuses and stop crying like a baby.” I throw the quote back at him as I button up my cardigan to hide the missing button on my shirt.

Adam curses himself and chokes out a sob. That’s officially the first time I’ve ever seen him cry, but I’m not falling for his shit. I take a step toward the door and hear him scrambling behind me. His body crashes into me, his hand pulling mine away from the doorknob just before I turn it.

“I’m sorry,” he groans, spinning me around and crushing me into a hug that I don’t want.

“Get the fuck off me,” I insist, pushing against him.

“Sabrina, please. I… There’s nothing I can say. I don’t understand what came over me.”

“Get off me!” I yell. How the hell is nobody hearing this?

He falls to his knees instead, wrapping his arms tightly around my legs and bawling into my skirt. For a moment, my fingers are tempted to run through his hair and soothe him, but I squirm out of his grasp instead.

“We are done.” With a deep breath, I compose myself and step into the library, startling a group of three girls outside who immediately start giggling.

Great. Now there will be rumors and I’ll get a reputation. Just fucking great.