Nothing about this made any sense to her. Not one thing. She shook her head and bridged the gap between them, tipping her head up to look him directly in the eyes. "You're really pissing me off right now. Just tell me what this is really about, because the guy that took me to the Colts game on Sunday wouldn't be saying these things to me because he wouldn't want to hurt me—especially after the night we spent together. You do remember that night, don't you?" She bit the inside of her lip and searched his eyes for clue, for a glimmer of anything that told her this wasn't over. "Why would that guy want to hurt me, Jake?" she asked softly.
All along he thought the real reason he'd never wanted to have a girlfriend was because he didn't want to be tied to one person (boring), but this? This was the real reason. You get comfortable enough to let your guard down (even for a second) and you get kicked right in the fucking balls.
Big swallowed and his throat felt like sandpaper. "He didn't want to," he began, seeing her eyes soften slightly, "and then he overheard the girl telling her friends that all that they had between them was sex."
He was kinda drunk; he was fully mad; and yeah, okay, his feelings were smarting a little. It was time to get the fuck outta there before he did anything else stupid, so he didn't wait around for her response. He simply turned and walked away; shoving his hands into his pockets and ignoring the way the wind stung his eyes.
Alisha stood motionless on the sidewalk, watching him walk away until she lost sight of him. Tears flowed freely down her face as the realization finally hit her.
She'd hurt his feelings.
And she could lose him. (If she hadn't already)
All because she'd been too afraid to notice what had been staring her in the face for a while now and to let go of the past that would allow her to finally move on.
Shivering from the late December cold, Alisha Bent down to pick up the shoe she'd thrown at him. As she slipped her frozen feet into tall heels, her face crumpled and a fresh batch of tears sprang from her eyes.
Once she was safely in the warm elevator, she slumped down on the padded Bench, her mind whirling like a tornado over possible ways to fix this mess. There was no use in playing if only, she knew, because the damage had already been done. But she hoped that it could be undone. (It had to be undone)
The doors slid open with a ding on Maggie's floor and she needed a few deep, cleansing breaths before she was ready to walk back in to that apartment. Her emotional rollercoaster ride wasn't over yet, she knew, but she wasn't sure how much more she could take tonight.
Maggie moved through the party, playing the charming hostess, but inside she was mad (and sad and hurt) that her best friend would keep something so big from her for so long.
She really wanted everyone to get the hell out of her home.
They never kept secrets from each other (well, unless it was about presents or something silly), but this? This was huge.
Alisha reappeared through the door with a tear-stained face and Russell and Adam were by her side almost immediately, wrapping arms around her and whispering. Something about the whole scene told her the breaking news of Big and Alisha she'd gotten in the kitchen was yesterday's news to those two.
She pasted on a bright smile as some of her guests approached to tell her goodbye and she thanked them for coming. The smile fell from her face after they walked away, and she saw James (her boyfriend) talking to Alisha, too.
If everyone knew about this secret but her, she was going to cut a bitch.
Alisha lifted watery eyes in her direction and Maggie felt her heart lurch for the obvious pain her friend was feeling and also for the hurt she felt from being the last to know. She watched Adam usher her through the apartment towards the bathroom and noticed James and Russell talking closely together and shrugging.
Maggie politely excused herself from the conversation she was having with a neighbor and caught up to the two men following after Alisha and Adam.
"Did you know about this?" she asked heatedly, grabbing the collar of Russell's shirt and tugging him back.
Russell whirled on her and smoothed his hands down the fabric. "This is Gucci, for God's sake. Show some respect," he frowned. He saw the flash of hell fire in her eyes and took a cautious step back.
"I asked you a question."
He hated when she had this eerily calm tone to her voice. (She was at her absolute scariest.) It was like the moment right before a scorpion whipped its tail around and dealt you a fatal blow. "No comprende!" he blurted nervously and scurried away.
"Dammit, Russell!" she hissed after him before turning her eyes on James, who was now super interested in the lights on the Christmas tree. She already knew the answer to her next question. "You know, too, don't you?"
James focused guilty brown eyes on her and her own eyes welled up in response. "Yeah, I know," he said quietly.
Maggie's head drooped, and she scrutinized the pattern on the rug Beneath her feet. She couldn't believe her own boyfriend kept this from her. This night fucking blew. "How long?"
He smoothed a hand over her hair, rested it on the back of her neck. "I had my suspicions a few weeks ago, but Big told me over the weekend that they'd been sleeping together since the night of the reunion show."
Her eyes snapped up to his. "So they're just screwing?"
"That's what
