I shower until I'm raw, but it does nothing to soothe me.

Righteous anger runs through my veins.

Fails to keep me warm.

This stupid raspberry towel just makes me think of Hunter and the hurt in his gorgeous blue eyes.

Fuck him for that.

I change. Disregard our knock first rule. Barrel straight into Brendon's bedroom.

He's sitting at his desk with his sketchbook.

Kaylee is sitting on the bed, her legs curled into her chest, her fingers around her Kindle.

Fuck, I don't know what I want to say to my best friend.

She should have stopped him.

Or talked sense into him.

Or something…

Why is every man in my life a hypocritical idiot?

"You don't get a say in who I date." My fingers curl into my jeans. I need to be home. I need to be somewhere else. I need to be in a world that isn't bullshit.

"Em—" Brendon's eyes narrow.

"No. Only people who respect me call me Em." I suck a breath through my teeth. "You don't get to—"

"Maybe we should go." Kaylee slides off the bed. Her lips curl into a frown. Her green eyes fill with concern.

She's worried about me.

About him too.

About being in the middle, probably.

But this isn't her fault.

"You don't get a say in who I fuck." I exhale slowly. Fail to find calm in it. "You don't get a say in my life. Period."

"This isn't about you," Brendon says.

"You warning your friend not to fuck me is about me." I take a step backward. "You can sell yourself whatever bullshit story you have about your noble intentions. I'm not buying it."

"I didn't," he says.

I stare at my brother.

He stares back at me.

"You fucked my best friend behind my back for months," I say.

He says nothing.

"She's younger than I am. You're older than he is. Where the fuck do you get off telling me that this is wrong when it's exactly what you're doing?"

"Have I?" he asks.

"What?"

"When did I say it was wrong?" he asks.

"Fuck you." I see red. The entire world is red. The entire world is bullshit. "He's gone because of you."

"He's gone because of him," Brendon says.

"Em. Let's go. Please." Kaylee hugs her Kindle to her chest.

I shake my head.

Stare down my brother.

God, he's so calm and sure and superior.

"Do you have any fucking clue what's going on?" I ask.

"I saw enough," he says.

"No. You don't know. I care about him. And you're fucking ruining that." My heart thuds against my chest.

"Em—"

"Save it for someone who can tolerate your bullshit." I turn and run down the stairs.

Tears well in my eyes. Then I blink, and my lashes are heavy, and I can barely see.

This is unfair.

This is bullshit.

How can he open me up then leave?

How can he promise to stay then leave?

How can he love me then leave?

After a few minutes, Kaylee climbs into the car. She gets me into the passenger seat, turns the key, drives us home.

I crumble on the couch a blubbering mess.

She hugs me and puts on Disney movies and plies me with chocolate.

But it's not enough.

As long as he's gone, nothing is ever going to be enough.