42. Zepp

FORTY-TWO

zepp

She thought I had left her when all I was trying to do was save her. Going to Monroe's house had been the worst thing I could have done. I hadn't even tried to fool myself into thinking that I was over her, but I never expected it to hurt that much. I underestimated how shitty it would feel to be that close to her and not be able to hold her.

I sat in the living room crowded with people, but I couldn't focus on anything but Monroe. Hendrix popped me on the back of the head before he yanked his shirt off, screaming, "It's my birthday!"

One of the strippers Wolf had hired for the party pranced over, shoving her tits in his face while he motorboated them. And there came another thought of Monroe, of how men used to do that shit with her. Ten months later and my blood still boiled from that thought.

Wolf leaned in beside me, laughing. "Dude. Those chicks are all over each other."

I didn't even bother to look. I finished off my beer, then went to push up from the couch, but one of the topless girls latched onto my shoulders, pushing me right back down. "Wanna dance?"

"No." I went to stand up again, but she shoved me into the seat and straddled my lap.

"You look so angry." She leaned in by my ear. "I'm sure I could loosen you up."

I pressed back against the sofa, closing my eyes when her bare tits rubbed against my shirt. The last time I had fucked was the last time I had fucked Monroe, and that had almost been a year. I should have enjoyed this, but I hated every second of it. All it did was remind me that I didn't have her—of how much I wanted her.

The girl pressed her lips to my neck, and I pushed her off, then got up.

"Dude," Wolf cackled, grabbing the girl by the waist and yanking her into his lap. "She would have fucked you." He glanced at her. "Right? You would have fucked him?"

She wrapped her arms around Wolf's neck, eyeing me up and down. "Totally."

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I walked off to the kitchen and grabbed a drink. Ten months in that shitshow of a jail had given me ample time to think about shit. Time had never passed more slowly than it had in there. Sleep. Eat. Go to the yard. Study. That was it. None of Hendrix's stupid metaphors or Wolf's rooftop. No Monroe.

Out of all the things I had missed the most. It had been that girl. I thought I had done what was best—loved her enough to let her go, given her a chance to get out of Dayton, but the look on her face last week when I went to her mom's trailer… I couldn't help but wonder if I had hurt her more than I had saved her. I had never wanted to leave her; I had only wanted her to leave me.

Because she deserved so much better than me. Thoughts went around and around in my head, guilt eating me up at the idea that I had hurt her. I couldn't take it anymore. I typed out a text, sending it to the number I had in my phone, not even sure if it still worked.

Me: I never meant to hurt you

Monroe: I hate you

I paced the kitchen because that was not the answer I wanted. At one time, she had loved me, and if she hated me, that meant I had hurt her. A person can only hate something they wanted to love.

Me: We need to talk

But the message didn't go through. Not delivered. I tried again and again. And when I attempted to call her, it didn't connect. Shit, had she blocked me?

I tossed my drink into the trash and snatched my keys from the counter before heading through the living room. "Hey, Wolf."

He had the stripper's nipple in his mouth, one hand palming her other tit.

I kicked at his shin, and he glanced up with a scowl. "Where does Monroe live?" I asked.

"Dude, I don't know."

"You said she lives with Jade. I know you know." He and Jade had this weird on-again, off-again fuck buddy thing going on.

He tossed his head back on the couch, patting the girl's ass to get her out of his lap. "That was the best dry humping I've had since I was twelve, and you just ruined it." He dug in his pocket for his phone.

"Aw, hell to the fuck no!" Hendrix shouted from across the room. He pushed the now-naked girl out of his lap, adjusting his dick before storming toward me and snatching Wolf's phone from my hand. "She can fuck off. She left your ass. After you went to jail for her."

My brother didn't get it. But I didn't expect him to. "Give me the phone, Hendrix."

"No." He fiddled with his crotch again. "She's a bitch, Zepp."

Before I realized what I was doing, I had nailed my brother in the face. He clutched at his nose, blood trickling down his chin.

His brows pulled together. "You fucking punched me!"

"You called her a bitch."

His eyes narrowed. "She is."

I nailed him in the gut, then Wolf pulled me off. "Hey. Dude. Hey. Calm down." Wolf held out his hand, and Hendrix slammed the phone down in his palm. "They live in Sassnett dorm. Room 311."

Hendrix grabbed the remote from the coffee table and chucked it at Wolf. "Oh, fuck you, you hairy sack of balls. You suck!"

Half an hour later, I parked in front of a tall, red-brick building. I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but to be honest, when had I ever known what I was doing when it came to Monroe?

I went to push open the glass door, but it wouldn't budge. Through the window, I could see a girl behind a desk. I banged over the door, and a buzzer sounded, my muscles tensing because it reminded me too much of jail.

"Can I help you?" She grinned, shimmying up in her chair before her gaze skirted over me, head to toe. "Like the tattoos."

"I need to see Monroe James. Room 311." I swiped a hand through my hair, the nervous energy getting to me. "I think."

"No can do. It's past midnight." She tapped a pen over a laminated piece of paper that read: No male visitors from 12:00 a.m. - 9:00 a.m.

I laughed. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Wish I was." She grabbed the book she had shoved to the side, opening it back up. The Notebook . Fine, she wanted to try and stick to her rules...

"Look." I folded my arms over her desk and leaned toward her. "I just drove like eighty miles. And I really need to see her. I haven't seen this girl in almost a year. I went to jail for her—"

Her eyes went wide. "You went to jail for her?"

"Yeah. I just got out, and I saw her in our hometown last week with another guy." I let a frown settle over my face. The girl didn't need to know the guy wasn't a threat. "And I can't lose her. I just really need to tell her I'm still in love with her."

"Oh my God." Her hand went to her chest, eyes softening. "That is so romantic."

"Can you just…" I poked a finger at the sign. "Can you just let this go. For once. For love."

She glanced up, then down the corridor. "I'm gonna take a bathroom break. The stairs are down the hall to the right." She winked when she stood, then whispered, "Go get her," before she walked off.

I booked it around the corner, shoving open the door to the stairwell and taking the three flights. The hallway light flickered on when I stepped into the corridor, passing several rooms before I came to the one with Monroe and Jade's name in bubble letters on the front. No way in hell she did that. I bet it was Jonathan.

Sweat slicked my palms, nervous energy wound through my body. I loved her, but I had hurt her. And what if this was the last thing she wanted. I had to know, though. I raised my hand, pausing before I knocked.

The hinges creaked, and Jade's face appeared in the crack doorway. She squinted. "Holy. Shit." The door shut, and I raised my hand to knock again but heard her say: "Monroe. Fucking Zepp's here."

There was a mumbled exchange before Jade stepped out in an oversized robe. "I'm not staying in there for this shit." Then she shuffled down the hall in her slippers. "And I don't even wanna know how you got past the front desk."

The dimly lit room reminded me of an oversized jail cell. Painted cinder block walls. Two small beds. A mini-fridge. A lamp clicked on, and Monroe sat up on the edge of the bed, all bare legs. And wearing the T-shirt I had given her the first night she stayed with me.

"What are you doing here, Zepp?"

"You told me you hated me. Then you blocked my number."

"Yeah." She folded her arms over her chest. "Because I don't want to talk to you."

That hurt to hear, but the part of me that couldn't get her telling me she loved me out of my head, refused to believe it. "I didn't mean to hurt you," I said.

Her chin dropped to her chest. She traced small circles on her knee. "I would have done anything for you. And you just…" She shook her head. "You know what, it doesn't matter."

"Everything I did was because I loved you."

"Then, I don't want your love because it hurts." When she looked up at me, tears welled in her eyes. "It still hurts! I can't move past you. And now you're back."

I felt like an asshole. I had never been in love with someone before her, so I had no idea that love wasn't something a person got over. It was like a piece of shrapnel buried underneath the skin. Something not visible, but something painful that would always be felt.

"And I can't move past you, so what the hell are we supposed to do, Roe? Huh?" I took a few steps across the room, wanting so bad to kiss her. Feeling every bit of me rip wide open for her. "I meant it when I told you I would never love anyone the way I loved you. Because I won't love anyone but you." My throat tightened. My chest caught. I crossed the small space, dropping to my knees and taking her face in my hands before pressing my mouth to hers.

She tensed in my hold for a second, her hands going to my shoulders before her lips parted. Having her lips against mine like this again, it took everything in me not to break down. I pressed my forehead to hers, fighting the raw emotion clawing up my throat. "Please, don't hate me. I can't take that."

"I can't stop loving you." Her voice broke on a soft sob while her fingers wrapped around my wrists. "I tried. So hard."

I kissed her again. Harder. Longer. "If you'll give me another chance, I swear to God, I won't leave you."

"Can we start with three months?"

I fought a smile, then kissed her again. Fuck three months; I was getting that girl for the rest of my life.