Don't Say You're Sorry (Hawthorne University #2)

by Bethany Winters

Not when I’m finally seeing the boy I love for the first time in three and a half years. I’ve thought about him every day since the day I left. Every day, I’ve missed him, needed him, wished for him, pined for him. Every fucking day, I thought about dropping everything and risking it all for him.

He turned his back on me. Just like I did to him.

They ask about me, and I tell them some half-truths about my life in London, leaving out the part about me being so pathetic that I barely leave the flat. The friends I tell them about are actually my brother’s friends, not mine. I never cared enough to make any of my own.

He’s so close, I can smell him. He smells like soap and…me. He smells like the aftershave I wear.

When I look at him, ready for him to lay into me with his words this time, all I can see is the back of his head before the door swings shut behind him. He turned his back on me. Just like I did to him.

Who the fuck was I to revel in his pain? I’m the one who deserves to be in pain. Not him. Never him. He deserves to be happy. I wanted him to be happy. Just not with anyone else…

He hasn’t spoken to me directly in years, and the first time he does, he chooses the words, “Brother, meet my new family.” I flinch. He might as well have taken a knife and stabbed it into my heart. I deserve it. I deserve everything he throws at me.

He peels his shirt open, and I stare at his chest, a breath puffing through my lips when I see the single word tattooed on his chest, right above his heart. The word that I wrote on him. Sunshine.

I don’t want him to stop. He could keep fucking coming, crawl his way into me, and burn me from the inside out, and I still wouldn’t want him to stop.

He likes ties. Belts. Anything he can use to restrain me.

He pushes my head back, pressing it into the counter with his palm on my forehead, and I smile like a damn fool. I love him like this. Bossy. Dominant. Mine.

“I like your hair this length,” he rasps. “Don’t cut it.” I nod obediently. “Hold on to me.”

“It’s just been a while since I’ve done that.” His eyes narrow as if the thought of me sucking dick angers him. “How long?” Reaching for the water, I uncap the bottle and take a sip, hesitating, before I tell him, “Three years, seven months, and four days.” His nostrils flare. “That’s how long it’s been since we⁠—” “I know how long it’s been,” he says.

I don’t know why I’m here or what I thought would happen when I got here. All I know is that it felt like I was drowning in London, and I couldn’t stay away anymore.

“I knew, and I didn’t give a fuck. I would have chosen you. I would have gone with you, but you didn’t even give me the chance. You didn’t choose me.”

“I’ve never lied to you, E,” I whisper as I pass him. “Not once. Remember that.” “There are worse things than lying,” he mutters. I stop in the hall, eyes forward. “Like?” “Like never saying a fucking word.”

I wanted them to see what he did to me. I want them to know that I’m his, and he’s mine, not theirs.

I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t risk tearing her marriage apart and ruining her life. Not again. So I ruined his instead. Ours. I ruined us.

“Bottoms up, little brother.” I cringe. “Please don’t ever call me that again.” He stares at me, his head cocked in confusion, and then it hits him. “Jesus Christ.” He swallows his drink in one go. I chuckle as he pours another one. “I thought you weren’t going to judge me.” “I lied.”

As soon as his hazel eyes hit mine, it felt as if it’d been seconds since he broke me, not years.

“Easton,” Frankie says quietly, for my ears only. “Frankie, stop,” I say just as quietly. “It was nothing, okay? He’s nothing.” “No, he’s not,” she whispers.

All this hurt, all the pain Adam caused me… It was for her. All for that smile on her face. Understanding and resentment war within me. It’s not fair. It’s not right. It’s⁠—

It’s not Adam I should be blaming. I’m the one who pushed. If I had left it alone, maybe I wouldn’t have lost my best friend, my stepbrother, and the only person I’ve ever let myself love. I ruined us long before he did.

He’d make me cry and beg for it. And only then would he fuck me and make me come all over myself. Sometimes, he’d fuck my dick with his ass and make me come inside him. I loved it. I loved everything he did to me.

When you told me you didn’t love me anymore. I don’t say it. It’s too much. But I can feel it. I’m not too late. He’s not telling me he doesn’t want me to come home. He wants me to stay.

“Did you know he almost relapsed the night he left me?” he asks, his voice raw with shame.

Frankie doesn’t like him. And Carter…I don’t know what’s going through his head right now. He’s acting weird, but I can’t figure out why.

He wants to fix us, to mold our broken pieces back together until they resemble the old us, but I’m not about to make it easy for him. He’s going to have to try a hell of a lot harder than this.

He’s not an idiot. I’m sure he’s fully aware that every encounter we’ve had since I punched him in that bathroom the other night has been far from friendly. Far from brotherly. This is never going to work out the way he hopes it will. We’re too far gone for that. But if he wants to play pretend, I’ll let him play. For now.

Carefully setting the photo down exactly where he put it, I open the nightstand drawer. The bottle of lube I brought with me is in here, but the condoms are missing. Guess he doesn’t think I’ll be needing those.

Adam used to love it when I’d choke him, rocking my dick in and out of his ass, his long fingers curling around my wrists as he begged me to let him come.

“What’s that smile for?” I ask. He shrugs. “I just forgot how fun you are.” I lift a brow. “To fuck with?” “And to fuck. God, you were fun to fuck. Remember that thing you used to do with your hips?”

“Yes,” I admit. “I’m jealous. It kills me that you’ve been with other people. But I don’t care what you say or how many threesomes you’ve had. There’s no way you’ve had hotter sex than the sex we used to have. There’s no way anyone else gave you what you needed. Only I know how to do that.” I’m panting by the time I’m done, my hips rolling up into nothing, my hands fisting the sofa at my sides. “So full of yourself,” he teases. “Tell me I’m wrong.” He doesn’t. I grin. That’s what I fucking thought.

“How many people have you been with since me?” I ask. He pauses. “I don’t know. A lot.” “How many of them were guys?” Another pause, and then he turns his head to look at me. “None.” Hope swirls in my chest. “Yeah, baby,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “You’re still the only guy I’ve ever been with. Not for lack of trying. Trust me. I fucking tried.” I swallow. “What happened?” “They weren’t you,” he says as he walks out.

“Don’t say you’re sorry for this.”

“I’ll kiss you, suck you, rim you, fuck you, and come in your little virgin ass if that’s what you want. That’s what I want. But only when you’re sober.”

He loved it. I thought he loved me. Until one day he didn’t anymore. Or so I thought up until last night.

“I guess he didn’t care enough. He didn’t care about anything,” he adds quietly. “He was miserable here. Is that what you want to hear?” No. It’s not.

“One night, I tied myself to the headboard,” I tell him. “Just one wrist. Plug in my ass. Face down. Legs spread. My cock fucking the sheet. I came hands-free pretending you were inside me. I even left a bruise on my hip with my own fingers.”

“Should I not have dog-eared the pages either?” “What?! Give me that, you wanker.”

Axel uses the book he’s holding to point at the R8. “Is that your car?” he asks Adam. He nods. “Easton bought it back for me.” “When?” Adam doesn’t know when, so he looks to me for the answer. Curling my fingers around the steering wheel, I say, “A couple days after you left.” Adam chews on his lower lip.

Amused, I watch him from across the room. He’s frustrated—sexually—and it’s making my dick hard. I love it when he gets like this. Neurotic and twitchy. Desperate for me to fuck the cum out of him.

“You leave him alone, or I’ll turn her against you. Simple as that.” He shakes his head in my peripheral. “You wouldn’t do that. Not to her.” My smile is cruel. “Watch me. I let you get away with it once. I won’t make that mistake again.”

There’s a wicked smirk on his face as he leans in close. “What do you think you’re doing?” I lift my free hand to boop his nose. “I see you under there, you know?” I whisper. “How’s your own medicine taste, love?”

Carter’s eyes are on Axel, but Axel’s looking at Easton expectantly, waiting for an answer to his question.

He’s the sunshine after rain.

He better be fucking with me. If he’s seriously shaking his ass up there with a butt plug inside him, I’m going to choke the shit out of him. I’m gonna choke him while I fuck him in the bathroom. Goddammit.

“You made me wait three and half years for you. You can wait a few more hours for me.”

Ninety-seven minutes later, I’m ready to explode. As soon as Megan and I finish closing up, I all but run out the door, finding Easton standing on the sidewalk waiting for me. He’s grinning like a fool. Even with how worked up I am, I can’t help grinning too.

“Because when you kiss me, it feels like I can breathe again.” His mouth never leaves mine, our tongues swirling together, but I know he’s listening intently. “My thoughts just…run away from me. Nothing and nobody else matters. They don’t even exist. It’s just you and me.”