“Not what, who.”
She shakes her head, not understanding. Or at least pretending not to understand.
“I saw you with him,” I seethe. “I saw you put your arm around him. I saw you smile up at him,” I rant, quivering; the overload of emotion is pummeling me.
“Ryan—” She tries to speak, but I cut her off.
“Let me tell you something, Alana.” I stalk toward her. She steps back until she bumps into her car door. “I may not have his money, or his looks, or even his brain. But I do know one thing. He will never make you feel the wayImake you feel.”
She stands there silently, gaping at me. I think I stunned her. I definitely stunned myself. That last sentence came out of left field, but I went with it.
“Just tell me one thing,” I demand. Our noses nearly touching. “Do you love him?”
Silence.
It kills me.
“Do you love him, Alana?” I shout in her face. “Tell me!”
Emotions 1. Ryan 0.
“No, you idiot,” she shouts back, “I love you!” Her face morphs from confusion into rage. I freeze.
“What’d you just say?”
“I said I love you, you asshole.”
Without even thinking I hook one arm around her waist and crush her into my body. She doesn’t fight it; she just secures me tightly against her as I let it all go. The last three days of pure torture. Hot tears spill down my cheeks from the twist of emotions. Burning the cuts on my face and wetting her soft, white shirt.
Pussy.
I don’t know how long we stand there, but I suck up every single ounce of comfort she’s willing to give me. Which is a lot of ounces at the moment. I have a million questions, but right now the silence and her embrace are all I need.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” she finally asks. I knew it was coming.
“Are you going to tell me who that guy was?” I artfully avoid the subject. Alana pulls away so she can look me in the eyes. She’s still in my arms though, and that’s where I intend for her to stay.
“Remy,” she answers simply. Like I’m supposed to know who that is.
“Remy?” I curl my lip.
She smiles sweetly, and it stabs me in the chest knowing there’s another man out there she feels affection for.
“He’s Emily’s cousin. On her mother’s side. We all grew up together. He’s like my big brother. He lives in California and flew in to surprise my aunt. He surprised all of us, actually.”
“So, he’s family?”
“More or less.” She wipes away a stray tear that’s trapped in my eyelashes. It makes me realize what a nutcase I’ve been.
I grab her hand before she has a chance to pull it away. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For... this.” I motion to myself, my face, my lip. “I’m a hot mess. Bloody and crying like a pussy.”
“Don’t apologize for crying.”
“Why not?” I sniff. “I need to learn to be more like you.”