Once I got home, there were so many things available for me to unleash my anger on. The door from the garage leading into the laundry room. That one rattled on its hinges, I slammed it so hard. Kitchen cabinets, those were good, too. The cherry doors closed with a satisfying bang. But it wasn’t until I made it to my own bedroom that Tristan walked in from the backyard, a worried look on his face.

“You okay?”

I used a closed fist to shove the top drawer of my dresser in. The framed picture on the top rattled.

“Fine.”

He stepped out of the way when I strode through the doorway, but barely before I hit his shoulder with mine.

“Something happen?”

The unamused look I gave him in answer wasn’t enough to deter him, and he followed me into the kitchen, where I yanked a beer out of the fridge. Without another glance at him, I cracked it open, slammed the bottle opener back into the appropriate drawer.

Somewhere in the more rational part of my brain, I knew that if I explained it to Tristan, he’d commiserate with me. Albeit it in one word answers, but he would.

All this time, I thought Brooke saw me differently. That she saw past all the bullshit that I’d carried heedlessly for so long, unconcerned with whether people believed it of me or not. If I’d ever wondered if I was moron, I didn’t anymore. She wasn’t a psychic. She couldn’t read through the layers of what was inside of my head, and didn’t I know it now.

In her eyes, I was nothing more than a fun time. Someone who was good to get off on, to share a laugh with, but beyond that, I had no place in her life.

No place of any importance.

That stung far more than I was comfortable with. And it stung so viciously, because I actually believed that we’d been building something. Something that didn’t require a stupid, high school level conversation of Am I your boyfriend?

I snorted into my beer as I walked back to my bedroom, Tristan still in tow. What an idiot I’d been.

“Michael,” he said more firmly, and I ignored him and kept walking. He’d never come into my room when I shut the door, and after I slammed that one shut too, he opened it right up. Well, guess it was time to move the hell out. What kind of guy was almost thirty and still shared a house with his older brother?

One who didn’t take life very seriously, I guess.

Rage and hurt mixed dangerously inside of me, embarrassment and bruised pride rising to the surface closely behind.

“Do you mind?” I drawled, not looking up at him. “I shut it for a reason.”

“Uh-huh. What happened?”

I took a deep breath, afraid that I’d snap and punch him if he pushed too hard. “Get out of my face right now,” I said crisply, refusing to look over at him for fear of what I would see. “If I wanted to talk about it, I would.”

He didn’t answer, his concern acting as a fuel over my skin. It didn’t comfort me, it didn’t douse the flames. Somehow, it only managed to make me even more mad. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shrug his coat on.

Good.

An empty house and few cold beers were exactly what I needed.

“You’re heading out?” I asked him, finally looking over at him when I trusted he wouldn’t ask something else to piss me off further.

He lifted a single eyebrow. Translation- are you a moron? I’m putting my coat on.

“Good.”

There wasn’t an ounce of shock or judgement on his face at my reply. He was curious though, I could tell. But he merely sighed and shook his head when he walked out. I stood in the same spot until I heard his truck start up in the driveway and then fade into silence out of our driveway.

In the vacuum of silence after his departure, I couldn’t even decipher what I was feeling. I’d said awful things to Brooke, so shame was bright and glaring. But the things she’d said back, her instant mistrust in what I was telling her settled like a thick oil over everything else.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I tipped my chin up toward the ceiling while I contemplated ignoring it.

But what if it’s Brooke?

Hope was the most violent, disingenuous emotion I could have felt in that moment. It was cold and hard, unwelcome and unforgiving. Because when it wasn’t her, when it was Kaitlyn from Star Bar again, I wanted to slam my phone against the wall next to me and feel it shatter into a million pieces to see if it gained me a single shred of peace.

I wouldn’t get any though, I realized dully.

Because I was exactly what Brooke thought of me. It didn’t matter that the number of women I’d slept with was far less than she imagined. It didn’t matter, because I was too much of a coward to own who I really was. All along, it had been easier to let everyone believe what they wanted than correct it, to allow them to see the man that I was, instead of the man they thought me to be.

I hadn’t even taken the time to read the text on my screen when there was a knock at the door. This time, I couldn’t even muster the ability to wish it was her, and I strongly considered ignoring whoever was unfortunate enough to be on the other side.

My heart was still pounding furiously in my chest as I grudgingly went to see who was at the door. It was probably nothing, a vacuum sales person, a little kid selling cookies or something. They didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my misplaced anger.

But when I swung the door open, it certainly wasn’t innocent.

Kaitlyn smiled back at my stunned expression. She was the cliché picture of a woman who is showing up somewhere where she knows exactly what’s going to happen.

Her red trench coat was tied tightly around her waist, and the vicious red of her heels matched.

“You are home,” Kaitlyn said, her cell phone in one hand. “I feel a little ridiculous showing up, but I was just around the corner at a friend’s house.” She looked me up and down slowly, and I took a deep breath before responding.

The thoughts in my head roared, and I couldn’t make sense of them, make sense of what I was supposed to be doing right now, with her facing me like she was, looking at me like she was.

Her green eyes were perfectly transparent. She wanted to eat me alive from where I stood. Kaitlyn knew the kind of man I was, because I’d shown her. Multiple times. She knew the score. Knew what to expect from me.

Nothing.

She would expect nothing from me besides the delivery of a good time. My throat wouldn’t work when I tried to speak, like parts of my body were in direct rebellion to what I was doing. My hands felt numb, and my heart thrashed behind my ribs.

But I stepped back regardless, and held the door open for her. She didn’t hesitate, walking past me with purpose and a curved smile on her face.

“I’m not in a very good mood,” I told her in a gravelly voice. She paused and looked at me over her shoulder.

“That doesn’t bother me in the slightest.”

Something about the words made me falter. As I was closing the front door, I caught my reflection in the large mirror that hung on the wall.

The man I saw looking back at me was pathetic. I hated him. But as much as I hated him, I didn’t know how to change.

Behind me, I heard Kaitlyn take off her coat, but I didn’t turn around. My stomach pitched violently, and I prayed that I wouldn’t throw up on the floor from the foundation-rocking effect it had on me, that innocuous sound of fabric sliding off her body.

This was a mistake.

I shouldn’t have opened the door. I shouldn’t have let her walk in.

“Mind if I help myself to a drink?” she asked.

If she cared that I hadn’t turned around yet, hadn’t even answered, she certainly didn’t let it show. The fridge opened, and I closed my eyes against the sound of her rings clinking against a glass bottle.

Chills covered my skin as I breathed deeply through my nose. What was I doing? No matter how angry Brooke had been at me, no matter what her words had done to me, this wasn’t me.

This wasn’t me.

Finally, I turned, and Kaitlyn was watching with a quizzical expression while she sipped out of her beer.

“I’m sorry,” I said and she tilted her head to the side.

“For what?”

I swallowed heavily. Whatever she saw in my face made her lower the beer bottle to the counter.

“I shouldn’t have let you in.” I lifted my chin after I said it, unwilling to do anything but be honest with her. None of this was Kaitlyn’s fault. Her timing was poor, but she couldn’t have known that.

“Oh.” She licked her lips and laughed under her breath. “Someone else?”

I nodded. “Yeah. She’s pissed at me right now, but yes. She’s … she’s important.”

Kaitlyn smiled, and it was wistful. “Then grab a beer and tell me about her.”

I sighed, swiping a hand over my mouth while I walked into the kitchen. Tell her about Brooke?

“I don’t even know if she’ll speak to me again after today.”

Kaitlyn nodded and opened the fridge to grab another beer. I didn’t take it when she held it out to me though, because even that felt strange. When she set it down on the counter, I stared at it while I started talking.

“I don’t even know where to start,” I admitted.

“The beginning is usually good.”

So that’s what I did.