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.

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.

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’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.”

“Tell me what happened tonight. I won’t judge you.” I raise a brow. “You sure you wanna hear it?” “That’s what this is for.” He raises his glass. “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.”

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.

“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.

“Every time I see you with someone else, I die a little on the inside,” he rushes out, panting against my ear. “Fuck. I⁠—” I don’t hesitate. “Then I’ll stop.” “What?” “If it hurts you, I’ll stop.” I run my lips over his cheek. “Nothing’s worth hurting you, Adam.”

“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.”