Worth It

“I’m a teenage boy,” I whispered, begging her to forgive me with my eyes. “Do you think all I want from you is sex?”



“No, of course not.” Narrowing her eyes, she fisted her hands at her side and snarled, “I’m a Bainbridge. You probably want money too.”



Then she whirled away and stalked off.



My mouth fell open, unable to believe she’d said that.



As parting shots went, that one had to be the best. It left me pummeled in the chest and short of air. I couldn’t believe she truly thought I was only with her because—



No, that didn’t make sense. We’d spent too much time together this summer, shared too many of our innermost thoughts and feelings. My City wasn’t like that.



The girl who’d hissed such an accusation had been a complete stranger.



Fisting my hands and clenching my teeth, I shook my head, refusing to let it go at that. I was going to make her admit she’d been lying. I was going to force her to forgive me for my idiocy, and everything was going to be fine again, damn it.



But when I got the end of the block and turned a corner, I stopped short when I saw her down the street, sitting at a bus stop bench and bawling her eyes out.



My chest squeezed tight as I watched the misery pour out of her. I’d caused this by flying off the handle in defense of Mercy. I’d made my favorite person on earth cry.



I almost fled in shame, worried everything was over. She’d never forgive me. We’d never be the same again, and what had started as the best summer of my life was going to end the worst.



Her sobbing got to me, though. Unable to let her cry alone, I went to her and sat on the opposite end of the bench from her. For a minute, I didn’t speak as she continued to cry into her hands. I shoved my hands into my pockets and squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could travel back into the past five minutes and not be such an ass.



Then I blew out a breath. “I didn’t mean it,” I said, my voice cracking on the words. “You know that, right? I was just upset, and defensive, and scared out of my mind that watching them was like some kind of awful preview of how we might turn out. I don’t know why I said it. It was so stupid. I felt sick as soon as the words came out. I thought I was going to puke. And I thought there was no way you’d ever forgive me. I’ll understand if you don’t, but I’m still sorry. I am so, soo....”



Slowly reaching out, I grazed my hand experimentally over her elbow to judge her response.



When she turned my way, I released a breath and gripped her arm before hauling her down the bench and into my lap.



“Sorry,” I whispered into her ear.



She curled into my chest and buried her face in my neck while her arms banded tight around me. I exhaled the most relieved breath ever. But having her turn to me for comfort after I’d been the one who hurt her broke me.



My eyes filled with tears. “I’m so damn sorry,” I repeated.



“I am too.” She sniffed. “I didn’t mean what I said about you either, but I did say it on purpose. I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me.”



I rested my cheek against her hair. “It worked.”



“I’m sorry, Knox. I shouldn’t have—”



“No. I started it. I deserved it.”



“No, Max and Mercedes started it. They went for each other’s throats, and we took sides...against each other.”



I didn’t answer, still upset over how easily I’d struck out at her. She had become the most important, precious person to me, and I’d hurt her. I never, ever wanted to hurt her.



The urge to vomit rose again, but City’s fingers in my hair soothed me. I pulled my nose from her hair to look her in the eye. “I don’t even know why I was so defensive of Mercy. She certainly isn’t a saint. And tricking a pregnancy out of your brother to get some money from him was awful.”



“I was no better. What Max said was worse than horrible. I mean, I have never seen him like that. He’s always been the nice, protective brother. He’s never said anything so crude or heartless to me before.”



“That’s because you’re like him.”



When she pulled away to look up at me, her eyes wide, she asked, “Is that how you see me, too? Like him?”



I closed my eyes and shook my head. “No. You’re just...you’re you, not a part of that at all, and I shouldn’t have accused you of thinking like him. I was wrong. I was so wrong.”



“Shh.” She pressed two fingertips to my lips. “It’s over. We both apologized, admitted we were wrong, and our siblings were wrong, and the entire situation was messed up. But now it’s done, and I forgive you, and…you forgive me, right?”