Page 59 of Fight For Me

“Then don’t start,” I blurt out. “Just accept it. We can’t be together like that. It’s not going to happen. Ever.”

She shakes her head, the anger and frustration on her face fading into something that looks a lot like pity. “You assume I want to be with you,” she says, her voice colder than I’ve ever heard it. She pokes me in the chest again, harder this time. “But here’s the thing, Wyatt. I am not a desperate little girl. I have some self-respect. And I have no desire whatsoever to be with someone who’s ashamed of me.”

The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. “I’m not ashamed of you!”

She scoffs. “Yeah, sure. You’re not at all ashamed that you have feelings for someone a few years younger—”

“It’s more than a few,” I snap. I don’t understand why she doesn’t get it. It’s so obvious that what I feel for her iswrong.

“Whatever, Wyatt.” Her shoulders slump and all of a sudden, she looks tired. Defeated. “I’m going home.”

Damn it. The last thing I wanted to do is ruin her night. “You stay. I’ll go.”

She glares at me. “I’m not going because of you,” she snaps. “Unlike you, I can handle myself around someone I’m attracted to without acting like a little baby.”

Well. She has me there. My behavior around her—and not just tonight—has been terrible. Iama baby. And a coward, just like she said.

“Alex—”

She ignores me. “I’m going because I didn’t sleep last night and I drank too much and I don’t feel well. So please get out of my way.”

My chest clenches. “You didn’t sleep last night?” I hate that she was up alone, hate that I wasn’t there to keep her company like I promised I would.

She just stares at me, eyes cold and blank. “Move.”

I realize that I’m still standing too close, towering over her as she’s pressed into the wall. I take a step back. “I’ll find Scott and have him get the limo to come around.”

She shakes her head. “He’ll make a big deal out of it. Everly will try to get me to stay. I’ll just get a ride share.”

“I’m coming with you.”

She glares. “You weren’t invited.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not leaving a club in some stranger’s car when you’re drunk.”

She opens her mouth, probably to argue, but then slumps back against the wall, as if she’s too tired to hold herself up—or deal with me.

“Fine. Call a ride. I’m going to get my purse.”

We drop our mics back at the table with River—who is now trying his luck with another girl in an even shorter dress—and manage to get away before Everly or any of the camera operators see us. The ride home is awkward, silent. I want to talk to her, want to try to make her understand. To make her see that none of this is her fault. To take the sad, disappointed look off her face. To do something, anything, to allow her to get the rest she needs. But she closes her eyes and leans her head against the seat back so I keep my mouth closed, not wanting to disturb her.

She must have dozed off, because she jumps when I tell her we’re at the condo. Her eyes dart around, like she’s confused about where she is, and when she opens the door, she seems unsteady.

I rush around the car to her side and take her arm, surprised when she lets me. “Shouldn’t have sat down,” she mumbles as I lead her into the building. “All the booze is hitting me.”

“You just need to sleep.”

She laughs bitterly. “Story of my life.”

She leans into me in the elevator and I curse myself for not realizing how drunk she was at the club. Or maybe it’s the lack of sleep, or a combination of the two. On the bright side, maybe she won’t remember any of this fucked up night in the morning.

When I open the door to our condo, George goes crazy, running around our feet, barking and yipping. It’s the most animated I’ve ever seen him. When Alex leans down to pet him, he licks her face, whimpering.

“Poor boy,” she murmurs. “You missed us, didn’t you? I missed you too, Georgie.”

My chest aches at her words, at the way she so clearly loves this silly, mangy dog we rescued. “I’ll take him out,” I tell her throat tight. “You, uh, need help getting ready for bed?”

She rolls her eyes. “Perfectly capable of brushing my own teeth.”