Read Online Everything for Us (A Bad Boys Novel) by M. Leighton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: M. Leighton
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because I know he’s right. I can admit that. But only on the inside. Beneath all the anger.
And there’s a lot of that—anger.
TEN
Marissa
“I’m sure he’d do it if you need him to. He doesn’t hate you, Marissa.” She’s trying to persuade me to ask Cash to go with me to the fund-raiser.
I know that the look I send Olivia is full of all the skepticism I feel. “You’re so sweet for saying so, but you and I both know that’s just not true.”
“He
doesn’t
hate you,” she emphasizes.
“Okay, maybe
hate
is a strong word. Let’s just say he has trouble tolerating me. Does that go down a little easier?”
Olivia cocks her head. “I’m not having trouble swallowing anything. I just really don’t believe he hates you. You two had a . . . rough relationship. You were a different person then. And in a lot of ways, so was he. You just have to find a way to put all that behind you and move forward. As friends. Or at the very least friendly acquaintances.”
I stare into my cousin’s jewel-green eyes. She wants us to get along so badly. But why?
“I know this is probably not something I should bring up, but it bothers me wondering if it bothers
you
. I don’t want it to.”
“Wondering if what bothers me?”
I hesitate, giving myself one last opportunity to change the subject before I bring up something that could change her feelings toward me. But I need to clear the air. The time for being selfish is over. If I’m going to be
this
person, I have to take all the bumps and scrapes that go along with moving beyond my past. It’s time to grow up and pay the piper, all that jazz.
“The fact that Cash and I used to . . . date.”
Olivia shrugs. I don’t think she feels as casual about it as the gesture implies, but I don’t see any real distress on her face, either, which is the main thing.
“It’s not something I want to sit around and think about, but it’s not like it eats at me constantly, either. I know Cash loves me. And I know you both had your reasons for carrying on the relationship. Now, if you’d been in love, that would be different. But you weren’t. You each had a purpose for using the other. I can live with that. Because it’s over.”
You each had a purpose for using the other.
How nasty that sounds. But, sadly, how true. We did use each other. And that makes me feel like a dirty whore. Which, by most definitions, I was. Technically. I had sex with someone who meant very little to me. He was a means to an end. Just because there was no money changing hands doesn’t alter the fact that I was with him for gain—to please my father. And that’s sick. Sick, sick, sick.
My smile is tremulous at best. I can feel it wavering and I try to bolster it. “I’m so glad. I don’t want something like that between us, bothering you. I wanted to make sure you knew it was nothing. And that it’s over.”
Her smile is genuine. “I do. And thank you for worrying about it.”
It’s my turn to shrug. I feel a little embarrassed. And very unworthy of her easy forgiveness. I feel the need to prove to her that her “investment” in me, her faith in me isn’t wasted.
“So now you know that I mean it when I say that if he needs to go with you, it’s totally fine,” she says.
I shake my head, more determined than ever to not do things that might make her uncomfortable. I’ve given her enough trouble already.
“Nope. I can go alone.”
“Go where alone?”
Chills break out down my arms at Nash’s voice. The strange thing is, I know it’s him without even turning toward the door. Even though he sounds almost exactly like his brother, I can tell the difference. His voice is a little harder, a little more gruff. Nothing too obvious. But something I recognize on a visceral level. And my reaction is instant.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway of my condo. His expression is similar to a scowl, much as it seems always to be. But I see something just beneath the
And there’s a lot of that—anger.
TEN
Marissa
“I’m sure he’d do it if you need him to. He doesn’t hate you, Marissa.” She’s trying to persuade me to ask Cash to go with me to the fund-raiser.
I know that the look I send Olivia is full of all the skepticism I feel. “You’re so sweet for saying so, but you and I both know that’s just not true.”
“He
doesn’t
hate you,” she emphasizes.
“Okay, maybe
hate
is a strong word. Let’s just say he has trouble tolerating me. Does that go down a little easier?”
Olivia cocks her head. “I’m not having trouble swallowing anything. I just really don’t believe he hates you. You two had a . . . rough relationship. You were a different person then. And in a lot of ways, so was he. You just have to find a way to put all that behind you and move forward. As friends. Or at the very least friendly acquaintances.”
I stare into my cousin’s jewel-green eyes. She wants us to get along so badly. But why?
“I know this is probably not something I should bring up, but it bothers me wondering if it bothers
you
. I don’t want it to.”
“Wondering if what bothers me?”
I hesitate, giving myself one last opportunity to change the subject before I bring up something that could change her feelings toward me. But I need to clear the air. The time for being selfish is over. If I’m going to be
this
person, I have to take all the bumps and scrapes that go along with moving beyond my past. It’s time to grow up and pay the piper, all that jazz.
“The fact that Cash and I used to . . . date.”
Olivia shrugs. I don’t think she feels as casual about it as the gesture implies, but I don’t see any real distress on her face, either, which is the main thing.
“It’s not something I want to sit around and think about, but it’s not like it eats at me constantly, either. I know Cash loves me. And I know you both had your reasons for carrying on the relationship. Now, if you’d been in love, that would be different. But you weren’t. You each had a purpose for using the other. I can live with that. Because it’s over.”
You each had a purpose for using the other.
How nasty that sounds. But, sadly, how true. We did use each other. And that makes me feel like a dirty whore. Which, by most definitions, I was. Technically. I had sex with someone who meant very little to me. He was a means to an end. Just because there was no money changing hands doesn’t alter the fact that I was with him for gain—to please my father. And that’s sick. Sick, sick, sick.
My smile is tremulous at best. I can feel it wavering and I try to bolster it. “I’m so glad. I don’t want something like that between us, bothering you. I wanted to make sure you knew it was nothing. And that it’s over.”
Her smile is genuine. “I do. And thank you for worrying about it.”
It’s my turn to shrug. I feel a little embarrassed. And very unworthy of her easy forgiveness. I feel the need to prove to her that her “investment” in me, her faith in me isn’t wasted.
“So now you know that I mean it when I say that if he needs to go with you, it’s totally fine,” she says.
I shake my head, more determined than ever to not do things that might make her uncomfortable. I’ve given her enough trouble already.
“Nope. I can go alone.”
“Go where alone?”
Chills break out down my arms at Nash’s voice. The strange thing is, I know it’s him without even turning toward the door. Even though he sounds almost exactly like his brother, I can tell the difference. His voice is a little harder, a little more gruff. Nothing too obvious. But something I recognize on a visceral level. And my reaction is instant.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway of my condo. His expression is similar to a scowl, much as it seems always to be. But I see something just beneath the
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