Psycho Ex Boyfriend (Standalone New Adult Romance) (The Alpha Brotherhood Book 2) (13 page)

Sabrina

Age 15

I refuse to answer any of Adam’s calls, eventually turning my phone off completely. I stop short of destroying the thing or throwing it away. Maybe I still have hope for him. It’s not like he really… Argh! Every time I start to entertain the idea of forgiving him, I replay the event in my head and become so pissed off that forgiveness is out of the question.

What a shit head!

I start going to the cafeteria at lunch because it’s too public a place for the asshole to attempt to talk to me. Thankfully, the weather outside is rainy so I don’t feel like I’m missing out on much. After a few days of letting me cool off, Adam starts throwing a scrap of paper in the trash in English Lit class.
Yeah, right
. By the time a week has gone by, he’s up to three wads a day. That’s when I start using clicker-free pencils exclusively.

The rain doesn’t last forever. May arrives with its warm breezes and gentle sunshine, coaxing the flowers from their hiding places. I’m not missing this just to avoid him. And maybe a part of me wouldn’t mind a neutral place to talk about what happened.

For the first time in weeks, I take a seat on my favorite bench, the one at the top of the hill facing the city street. I can almost see the train from here. If fucking Roderick sits down next to me, I’m going to punch him in the face.

I’m enjoying the weather alone for a while. Adam probably went to the cafeteria expecting to stare at me again. Once you’re in there, you’re not allowed to leave until the halfway point so students aren’t roaming around the hallways, disturbing classes. If he decides to look for me in the library for the second half, he’s screwed.

But just as I’m expecting, he sits down on the bench behind mine, facing away just like he did the first week of school when we confirmed that we knew each other. That seems like so long ago, but it’s only been eight months.

“Hi,” he finally says, shifting so that his body is turned toward mine. He must really want to talk, but I can’t bring myself to say a word. “I know that apologizing is futile at this point, but I’m still very, very sorry.”

“Sorry you don’t get laid every week anymore?” I shoot back. I wish I could tell myself that I regret sleeping with him and actually believe it, but no luck with that so far.

“Bree—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sabrina, I fucked up, alright? I can’t stop thinking about it and I’d take it back if I could.”

“Well, you can’t.”

“I
know
.”

“Just leave me alone,” I tell him even though I’m not sure that’s really what I want.

“Yeah, about that… I’m not sure that I’m going to be here next year.”

“What?” I spin around and look directly at him, surprised that he doesn’t start visibly worrying if anyone is watching us. “Where the hell are you going?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, maybe I will be, but I have a feeling I won’t.”

“Have you accessed physic powers that I’m unaware of in the last three weeks we’ve been broken up?”

He chuckles, running his fingers through his hair. “I prefer to think of this as a fight.”

“Well, prefer all you want. But we’re not together.”

“Okay, anyway,” he says, huffing in frustration. “Jake said something the other day that got me wondering.”

“Jake?”

“My older brother, the one I’m working with on the apartment complex.”

“Oh. What did he say?”

“He started talking about how difficult it was for him in college because he was only sixteen when he started and no one took him seriously at first.”

“Sixteen?”

“Yeah. And back when we were in New York a different brother said something similar to Shane. So we’ve been speculating. We came to this school with more than half the credits we needed to graduate and—”

“You
what
?” My face flushes with a jealous heat. How the hell could he keep that from me? And what the hell, that’s
so
unfair! I’ve been in an inner academic competition with him the whole time, totally unaware that his crazy ass had a head start!

“I knew you’d be super pissed off about that part,” he says, trying not to laugh.

“How the hell is that even possible?”

“We went to middle school, but were also being quote unquote
homeschooled
on the side, and Father sets an unrelenting pace.”

“That is such bullshit!”

“
Anyway
.” He lays back on the bench leisurely, probably because it’s getting obvious that we’re having a conversation. I huff and spin around.

“Anyway, what?” I snap, still reeling.

“Ian is already sixteen. I’m turning sixteen in August, Trent does in October,” Adam says. “We’re already signed up for some summer college classes that would finish off what we need to graduate, and I seriously doubt Father gives a shit about the pomp and circumstance of taking pictures of us in a cap and gown. Plus, he’s British. Sixteen is when most kids finish secondary school over there and go to college or get jobs. So it makes sense that would be his timeline.”

“Well, we aren’t in the UK.”

“We’ve been prepping for the GCSE since seventh grade and—”

“What the heck is the GCSE?”

“General Certificate of Secondary Education,” he says. “It’s like one huge final for high school. And he had us start writing these essays last fall and—”

“Like,
college
essays?”

“I don’t know!” he replies, sitting up. “Maybe.” I glare at him. “Okay, probably.”

“How could you not tell me this?”

“I wasn’t sure.”

“You sound pretty sure now,”

“Then I guess I just didn’t want it to be true. But I’m 95% certain that it is. So if you want to stop fighting and spend a little time together, it’s now or never.”

“Well, I was already planning on never, so—”

“Sabrina, please.
Please
. I’m fucking begging you.”

“I think you meant to say begging to fuck me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he spits. “We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to. I just need to see you before—”

“Yeah, because I could really meet up with you in one of those vacant units and avoid having sex whether I want to or not.”

“I stopped. I was in a jealous rage, but I realized what I was doing and I fucking stopped. Because I love you and I could
never
do that.”

“You came pretty fucking close, Adam.”

“I’m aware of that and I found it deeply disturbing.”

“Probably not as much as I did.”

“I know.”

The bell rings, calling us back to our studies. And one of us actually has to go because I don’t have a father that can conjure up high school diplomas.

“Just think about it, alright?” Adam asks, his voice cracking. I don’t say anything back, still fuming. “I won’t… I could never actually…”

“I’ll think about it.” I get up and start off to class, quickening my pace so I can have a moment alone in the bathroom before I have to get there.

I turn my phone on two days later. He’s been calling at least twice every single day and my voicemail is full of aching apologies and desperate confessions. He calls again at 10:00 that night and I answer on the last ring before he can leave another message.

We’re back together in one conversation. My fake yearbook club is over because Heather started asking questions about why we hadn’t sent it off to the printers since it’s the end of the year. And because I thought I never wanted to see him again.

His phone line is dead by June. When I start my sophomore year next fall, Adam isn’t there. None of the princes are. He’s gone.
Gone
. Just like that.

Adam

Age 28

My heartrate increases as I hear the grating sound of a key sliding into the lock. Who the hell else would be here?

Sabrina pokes her head into the room, her eyes wide with sweat on her brow. Typical that sneaking into an empty school would send Miss Goodie Two Shoe’s stress levels sky high.

She doesn’t see me at first. It gives me a chance to watch her reminisce for a few seconds. Her hand covers her mouth to conceal her smile when our eyes meet.

“What are you doing here?” she asks. As if I’m the only one out of line in this storage closet.

I’m thinking about you
. That’s the only answer I have to such a ridiculous question, but she doesn’t need to hear the obvious. “I see that you kept your key.” I push off the floor to greet her.

“You’re the one that went away. I still needed it.”

“To escape the brutalities of adolescence?” I cringe when the poor choice of words leaves my mouth. She forgave me, but we never came back here after that.

“Just to get away from it all once or twice a semester, yeah,” she replies nonchalantly, padding over to the window. I wonder if she ever brought other guys here. “I’m surprised the locks haven’t been changed.”

“As am I.” I hide the butterfly pendant away, but the chain dangles from my pocket and she sees it.

“You still have that?”

“Of course I do,” I say without thinking. Heat creeps across my face at her amused expression. There’s only one woman on the face of the earth that has the ability to make me blush like a child.

“You left me,” she says coldly.

“We’ve been over this a hundred times. I couldn’t have stayed here even if I’d wanted to.” And I did want to. More than I’ve ever been able to convey.

She looks at me in confusion, then lets out a laugh that echoes beautifully. “This
morning
, not twelve years ago.”

“Oh.” I step towards her. “Does this closet seems bigger to you? It should be the opposite, considering how we’ve grown.”

“E-readers, Adam. Libraries don’t need this much storage anymore.”

I should have thought of that. “Very astute.”

“You’re dodging my question. Where did you go?”

“Hey, I attempted to wake you.” It wasn’t an exceptionally valiant attempt, both because she was exhausted and I didn’t want to answer this very question, but an attempt all the same.

“Oh, did you?”

“Yes, I did. I decided to roll you on your side instead.”

Bree’s incredible doe eyes roll in exasperation before narrowing at me sharply. I’ve driven her to drink far more than her mother ever did. A part of her hates me for that and always will. A part of her hates me for a lot of things. She strolls over to me, running her fingers along the collar of my shirt. Luckily, the rest of her still loves me.

“At least you tried to wake me up.” Sabrina takes me at my word and doesn’t press the issue. She wouldn’t want to know anyway.

“Did your meeting go well?” I ask, suppressing a shudder as she rakes her long nails across my stubble.

“Still keeping tabs on my comings and goings?” she whispers, the corner of her mouth lifting into a roguish smile.

“Always will. Especially your comings.” A husky laugh escapes her throat as she undoes the button at the base of mine. I catch her by the wrist, flashing back on the last time I did that in this room. “Not here.”

“Any particular reason why?”

“You know why.”

“But it was always a fantasy of ours,” she reminds me.

“A fantasy that I completely, utterly destroyed.”

“I got over it.”

“I never did,” I confess. If there had been anything in my stomach, I would have puked it up on the floor after she ran out of here.

“Adam…” Her touch becomes soothing as her lips press to my cheek. “Why beat yourself up over that? You’ve done much worse to me since then.”

“You deserved all of that,” I tell her, knowing it will quell her desire immediately.

“No you just didn’t,” she breathes with a touch of that accent she’s tried so hard to shed. I absolutely adore it. She huffs, breaking away from me. “God, Adam, you can be such a…”

“What will it be this time, Sabrina? Jerk? Asshole? Bastard? Perhaps something more literary, like scoundrel or desperado?”

“Take your pick.”

“They’re all accurate, but desperado has a nice ring to it.”

“Desperado,” she laughs. “I suppose that’s fitting, considering what you’ve done.”

My mouth salivates as I recall stepping over a line that you can never uncross. I’ve never killed a man before. I wasn’t expecting such satisfaction. Sabrina must be able to see it on my face because she turns to leave, perhaps for good this time. I can’t have that.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

I grip her forearm and pull her back to me, reveling in her gasp. I catch the sound in a kiss. She pushes against me at first with her free arm, then I feel her body go limp like it always does, yielding both to me and whatever madness keeps her coming back for more.

Her fingers land on the bare skin of my neck, still startling me after all these years. I guide her into the corner as I have a hundred times before. But Sabrina isn’t a little girl anymore.

My hand slides up her thigh hastily as she bites my bottom lip. I taught her that trick. Lucky for me, she’s wearing a skirt, but it’s a lot tighter than the pleated plaid that she’s usually in when I dream about doing this. This glorious mane of curls is bigger, too. So are her tits.

Her silken panties are little more than a scrap of fabric with strings and provide no resistance as I slide them aside. She takes care of my trousers as I grip her ass and lift her into the air, using the wall to keep her steady as I push myself inside.

Her moan edges on a screech as her eyes widen at the incursion. That might have hurt a little, but I never seem to care about that anymore like I did when we were kids. I drive in deeper as I clamp my mouth on hers, swallowing all the ecstatic noises erupting from her, mingling with my own groans and grunts.

She wraps her arms tightly around my neck, breaking our kiss as we stare into each other’s frenzied eyes. Her hips tilt forward, meeting each thrust with her own. Her mouth drops open to call out my name just before I get the pleasure of watching her spin out of control. It’s almost better than the pleasure of following her. The first time after we’ve been apart is typically rough and quick.

And I’m always a ridiculously clingy sap afterwards. It’s humiliating, or would be if it ever happened with anyone else aside from her. It never has and never will. She’s the only one that can… she’s the only one. That’s all there is to it.

I linger inside her, vaguely aware that I forgot to use a condom and the evidence of my conquest is dangerously close to soiling my pants. I can’t pull myself away and she knows she has me at a disadvantage for at least the next five minutes. Every achingly sweet kiss she dots across my face, every undeserved soothing touch of her fingers, every single comforting murmur into my ear will be repaid with my usual ferocity on the second go round. And still, I’ll be putty in her arms yet again.

We break apart, Sabrina pulling a few tissues from her purse before smoothing her skirt and hair.

“Happy now?” I ask her.

“Like you’re not.” I meet her arrogant smile with one of my own. That fuck was a long time coming. “Something just occurred to me,” I confess, still entrapped in this humiliating vulnerability that always consumes me after I’ve consumed her. “All these years we’ve been together, off and on, and we’ve yet to celebrate a true anniversary.”

“That’s because you were never able to go for an entire year without messing up,” she quips.

I sigh, chuckling as I kiss her forehead. “Still, it seems that we must have accumulated at least 365 days, right?”

“Of fucking, maybe.”

“Definitely of fucking,” I retort. “But what about our time officially together?”

“That counter stopped ticking when we were 15, Adam.”

“No, it…” I search my memory for any stretch of time until recently that might pass for a relationship. All it does is make it crystal clear how much of a bastard I’ve been. But we had a good run last year, even though it was long distance. Why isn’t she counting that? She better not have been… Don’t go there. She probably just doesn’t believe I wasn’t fucking around on her.

“What about Greece?”

She sighs. “I don’t know if that counts. It wasn’t a year either way.”

October to July. It was close. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re together now.”

“If we are, you’re on very thin ice.”

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out unexpectedly.

“For what?”

“Take your pick.”

“Hmm,” she muses, rapping her fingers on the concrete floor. “How about the last time you were with someone else?”

“Sabrina…” We rarely speak of this, for good reason.

“How long has it been?”

I walked right into this one. “Since I’ve fucked anyone aside from you?” I ask, wincing. She nods her head. “I’m not exactly sure.”

“I bet you are.”

“Fine. If you want to go there. I revenge fucked a few women after you slept with that guy we saw at the New Year’s party last night.”

“And…”

“I want to say not since I moved to Chicago, but…”

“But what?” That accent is coming through again. I try to keep the inappropriate smile from curling my lips.

“I messed up recently. I didn’t fuck either of them and I never intended to, but—”

“
Them?
” she snaps.

I always take my girls in pairs. I like to watch the competition. Something tells me I should leave that part out. “It was just for show. To mess with Shane’s head. But it still felt wrong.”

“Damn it, Adam.”

“You asked.”

“I don’t know why.”

“Sex hasn’t exactly been a priority for the last year.”

“You could have fooled me,” she replies bitterly.

“I meant sex with anyone other than you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Yeah, it is
. That year happens to coincide with my rekindled obsession with her. But if she was going to start seeing other men after one stupid fight, I’m damn sure not going to play the role of saint. “Would you prefer that I lie?” I ask her.

“Sometimes I think that might be better.”

Perhaps it would. The only problem is, I know everything and everyone that she’s been doing. Sabrina will not be allowed the luxury of living in the dark. I can’t say that she pushed me towards it all, that responsibility lies with my dick. And, if I’m honest, my ego.

“You know what I really want to know?” she asks. I shut my eyes because I definitely don’t want to hear whatever she’s about to say. “What the hell happened to you after you left? When you were a kid.”

“I was never really a kid.”

“You were close enough, compared to what you were when you came back.”

“I’d rather talk about the numerous women I’ve had sex with instead,” I reply, hoping it will set her off. No luck.

“What happened that summer, Adam? Why were there only five princes left at the end?”

I hate it when she calls us princes and she knows it. “Cream rises to the top.”

“There’s more to it than that,” she surmises.

Since killing is fresh on my mind, it’s difficult to stop myself from confiding in her. That’s becoming harder and harder in general lately. I swallow, watching her head cock to the side, her expression softening.

“You remember my dog, right?” I say, clearing my throat.

“Of course I remember Betty,” she replies. She threads her arm through mine, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“Well, Father had…”

“You should really stop calling him that, Adam.”

My brothers keep telling me the same thing, but they don’t get it. That’s what he is. He taught me everything. That’s undoubtedly how I became the mess I am today, but he taught me everything just the same.

“Rupert,” I begin, using his proper name. “He didn’t look fondly upon emotional attachments, never did. So he demanded that we cut ties with the most important things in our lives. The dogs were at the top of the list.”

“So half of you got rid of them and half of you didn’t? That’s it?”

“We killed them,” I whisper.

“You what?” She pulls away from me and I’m caught squirming in her judgmental stare. Otherwise known as my personal moral compass, since I don’t have much one of my own. I’ve often thought about her potential outrage when making decisions, particularly when doing business overseas.

“It wasn’t that difficult for me.”

“Oh, my God,” she snaps, wrapping her arms around her chest, her nose wrinkling in disgust.