Demi ended up claiming gold last night and we all went out to celebrate, including her mom who somehow managed not to strangle me. Even after a few drinks.

I'm not sure when this friends-with-benefits thing is supposed to have run its course, but I do know I'm not ready for it to end. Which is why I’ve dragged my ass out of bed this morning, so Demi and I can figure it out.

I approach Demi's door, a pathetic pussy-whipped smile already creasing my lips.

“No, that's not Dax.” I hear Demi’s voice talking to someone and I wonder who it is because I thought Skylar said she was going to back the fuck off from us. Let us work this out ourselves. It's foreign terrain for me. The least she could’ve done is give me a fucking minute to talk to Demi about everything.

“He has no money. He doesn't do this for the love of his country. How could you actually like him?” The French accent tells me that fucking vag badger is back, front and center trying to get back into Demi’s pants. Pants he zipped firmly up himself before the Classics when he decided quantity was better than quality.

“You don't even know him.”

That’s my girl.

“I don't need to know him. His reputation speaks for itself. He almost hit me in that restaurant. He's a complete Neanderthal. Come on, mon amour. We were good together.”

My fists clench at my sides and I step forward, my hand inches from pushing the door farther open.

“You have no idea. Did you know that he sends most of his earnings home to help out his family, even though they want nothing to do with him unless it involves a blank check?”

The creaking of the bed is the sound I hear when my heart breaks for the first time ever.

She told him. The secret that no one knows. How could she betray me?

“Now get the fuck away from me,” she says in a disgusted voice.

I push the door open. Demi's eyes widen, and Frenchie bolts up from his seated position.

“Am I interrupting?” I rein my temper in enough to get rid of this jackass before I pummel him into the ground.

Why do I even care that she told him? This is exactly what we needed—something to keep us away from one another since we were bound to implode anyway.

“You didn’t interrupt anything. Julien was just leaving.” Demi shoots him a look and he snickers.

“I underestimated you, Campbell.” He steps forward, slowly leaving the room. “Next Classics I guess I'll get myself my own lucky charm. Screw her to improve my performance and win first place.”

He snickers and without thinking, I grab his shirt before he can flee the room and slam his back into the wall.

“Watch it,” I grind out. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins at a hundred times the rate it does when I’m at the starting gates.

“What is he talking about?” she says to me. “What are you talking about?” she asks Julien when I don’t answer.

I grip his shirt tighter, sliding him higher up the wall.

“Dax went after you because he thought you were his lucky charm. He won gold last Classics when he was fucking you and thought it might work this time around, too. I guess not since he only won silver.”

I cock my fist back and nail him in the cheekbone.

“Dax!” Demi steps forward, planting her hand on my forearm. “Go, Julien.” She points to the door.

“At least I fucking medaled, you piece of shit tenth place,” I yell out the door behind him.

“Tell me he's lying.”

I turn back around, Demi's arms are crossed, her eyes lasered in on me.

“First, we're gonna talk about you telling him all about my family shit. Out of all the people in the world, why would I ever want him to know?”

Her arms drop, her eyes morphing into that sympathetic, pitiful look I hate. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me. I have a fucking fantastic life.

“I just...”

“You wanted to explain how you could like a Neanderthal like me?”

“No.” She steps forward with her hand out, but I step back, pushing my hands through my hair. “You have it wrong. I just—”

“Save it, Demi.”

I’m so angry right now and I’m not even sure I know what I’m so pissed about. Her spilling my secret? At Julien? Whatever it was between her and I ending? At myself for falling for her? All of it? None of it?

“You're not even going to listen to me?” Tears well in her eyes and I can't deny that my stomach knots and the impulse to want to make it better for her is strong.

“This was fun while it lasted anyway, right? Who cares now?” I shrug.

Her body slumps and her eyes shift into the saddest puppy dog expression. “You're ending this? Now?”

“Why do you sound surprised? You knew what this was. Our events are over.”

“I guess I thought...”

“That'd I change my mind? That I’d suddenly change my ways and say I love you or some shit like that? Well, this time that's on you. My intentions were clear from the get-go. This isn’t a damn fairy tale.”

“You were clear?” That puppy dog in her eyes turns K-9. “I don't recall you asking me to be your lucky charm.” Her fists are clenched at her sides and I think she’d like nothing more than to haul off and pop me one in the eye.

“That's not it,” I say.

“It's not? Then why the hell does Julien think that and why didn’t you tell him it’s bullshit then? What am I, some joke in the locker room? Look how Dax got Demi to buy into his antics.” A tear slips down her cheek and my own defenses slip. “He sure duped her this time.” She wipes the tear off her cheek angrily.

“That's not how it went.”

I step forward, losing any fight after seeing her like this.

Her arm flies forward, her finger pointing to the door. “Get out, Dax! You're right. Our events are over. We can move on with our lives. I'm sorry I couldn't get you to gold again this year, but hey, there's always the next Classics.”

“Don't do this, Demi. Let me explain.”

She stops and lets her arm fall to her side, and for a moment I think maybe we'll talk this out, but she lowers her head, looking at the ground. “Dax.” She picks up her head, squaring her shoulders and looking me straight in the eyes. “Do you ever want to be in a relationship?”

Here it is, the expiration stamp landing on our papers. “No. But it's not you, it's me.”

“Leave,” she says with a strangled whisper.

I'd rather have her angry. Tear at my clothes, hit me, do anything but use that soft heartbroken voice that breaks me in two.

Five minutes ago, I was on my own mission to end this and now I want nothing more to stay and make it better. I feel fucking schizophrenic.

But I'll just make it worse if I stay. Our parting was inevitable.

So, I back out of the room, shutting the door behind me. Something crashes on the back of the door and with my head down and hands in my pockets, I head to my room.

How the fuck did I end up the heartbroken one?