Tangled Page 47

You are my beginning, you’ll be my end

More than lovers, more than friends

I want you, I want you

He can’t have her. Go ahead and want all day long, douchebag. Sing from the motherfucking rooftops. Play until your fingers fall off. It’s too little, too late. She’s already mine. Kate isn’t the type to have sex with just anyone. And she f**ked me all weekend like the world was ending. That has to count for something.

Doesn’t it?

And I need to say I’m sorry

For all the pain I caused

Please give your heart back to me

I’ll keep it safe for eternity

For eternity

You and me

The small crowd that’s gathered in the lobby applauds. Dickhead puts his guitar down and walks up to Kate.

If he touches her, I will break his f**king hand. I swear to God.

He doesn’t acknowledge me at all. He’s focused only on Kate. “I’ve been calling you since Friday night…and I stopped by the apartment a few times this weekend, but you were out.”

That’s right. She wasn’t home. She was busy. Now ask her what she was doing.

Who she was doing.

“I know this is work…but do you think we could go somewhere? To talk? Maybe your office?”

Say no.

Say no.

Say no, say no, say no, say no, say no, say no, say no, say no…



As she starts to walk away, I grab Kate’s arm. “I need to talk to you.”

Her eyes question me. “I’ll just be a—”

“There’s something I have to tell you. Now. It’s important.” I know I sound desperate, but I really don’t give a damn.

She puts her hand over mine, the one still clasping her arm. She’s calm—condescending, like she’s talking to a child. “All right, Drew. Let me talk to Billy first and I’ll meet you in your office, okay?”

I want to stomp my foot like a two-year-old. No. It’s so not f**king okay. She needs to know where I stand. I have to stake my claim. Throw my hat in the ring. Get my car in the goddamn race.

But I drop my hand anyway. “Fine. You two have a nice chat.”

And I make sure I walk away first.

I stride toward my office. But I can’t help but stop at Erin’s desk when they walk by. As Kate turns to close her office door, our eyes meet. And she smiles at me. And for the first time in my life, I don’t know what it means.

Is she reassuring me that nothing’s changed? That nothing will? Is she saying thank you for bringing that f**k nut crawling back to her? I just don’t know.

And it’s driving me crazy.

I clench my jaw and stalk toward my own desk, slamming the door behind me. And then I pace. Like a soon-to-be father outside the delivery room, waiting to see if everything that means anything to him will come out unscathed.

I should have told her. Last night. When I had the chance. I should have explained how much she means to me. What I feel for her. I thought I had time. I figured I’d ease into it, slowly work up to it.


Why didn’t I just f**king tell her?

Goddamn it.

Maybe she already knows. I mean, I brought her to my apartment, I cuddled with her. I worshiped her. I f**ked her without a rubber—three times. She’s got to know.

Erin quietly enters the room. I must look like a disaster, because her face is soft with sympathy. “So, Kate and Billy are talking, huh?”

I snort. “Am I that obvious?”

She opens her mouth, probably to tell me yes, but closes it and starts again. “No. I just know you, Drew.”

I nod.

“You want me to take a walk? See what I can see…or hear?”

“You think that’ll work?”

She smiles. “The CIA would be lucky to have me.”

I nod again. “Okay. Yeah. Go do that, Erin. See what’s going on.”

She walks out. And I go back to wearing a hole in the rug. And pushing my hand through my hair until it sticks up like I’ve been struck by lightning.

A few minutes later, Erin comes back. “The door’s closed, so I couldn’t hear anything, but I peeked through the glass. They’re sitting in front of her desk, facing each other. He’s got his head in his hands, and she’s listening to him talk. Her hand is on his knee.”

Okay. He’s pouring his heart out. And she’s being sympathetic. I can live with that. Because then she’s going to crush him, isn’t she? She’s going to tell him to screw off. That she’s moved on—found someone better. Right?


Christ, just f**king agree with me.

“So…what should I do?”

Erin shrugs. “All you can do is wait. And see what she says when they’re done.”

I’ve never been good at waiting. No matter how hard my parents tried, I could never wait until Christmas morning to find out what I got. I was like a mini-Indiana Jones—searching and digging until I found every single gift.

Patience may be a virtue, but it’s not one of mine.

Erin stops at the door. “I hope it works out, Drew.”

“Thanks, Erin.”

And then she leaves. And I wait. And think. I think about the look on Kate’s face when she was crying at her desk. I think about the panic she was in when she saw Warren at the bar.

Was that all I was to Kate? A distraction? A means to my own end?

I start pacing again. And praying. To a God I haven’t spoken to since I was ten years old. But I talk to him now. I promise and I swear. I barter and beg—fervently.

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