I never told anyone anything.
“Tate’s going to be pissed,” he pointed out, like I hadn’t thought of that.
“The whole point.”
Madoc nodded. “Oh…so that’s the plan.”
Well, what the hell did he think I was doing? Actually dating K.C.?
Enough. “Thanks again for backing me up last night.” I changed the subject and turned to climb the stairs.
But Madoc spoke up again. “This thing?” he started, and I stopped. “With Tate? Why do we do it? I know I’ve asked before, but you don’t tell me shit. I just don’t get it.”
Jesus Christ.
I turned back around to face him, done talking about this.
He’d asked lots of times before, and each time I’d targeted that girl it was for a different reason.
I liked playing games.
I wanted control.
I was protecting her.
I never had an answer that satisfied me, let alone worth repeating. In my head, it always seemed reasonable, but saying it out loud sounded crazy.
But while Madoc was curious, he was also game. Anytime I wanted help spreading a rumor or messing with Tate over the years, he’d always stepped up. At my request and of his own volition.
The party a year ago where he threw her keys into the pool, and she’d broken his nose.
All his idea.
My first party this year when she screamed, “Cops?” Did I tell him to put his hands on her?
I narrowed my eyes on him. “I think you go above and beyond. You mess with her without me telling you, so why do you care?”
He smiled and let out a nervous laugh, brushing me off. “This isn’t about me. I never wanted to make an enemy of that girl. She came outside last night like she was ready to back us up. She’s hot, athletic, tough, and she can handle a gun. What’s not to like?”
Every muscle in my shoulders and arms flexed. I didn’t like that Madoc was veering away from how I wanted people to see her, and I fucking hated that he drooled over her.
I came back down the stairs, my boots pounding on the tile almost as hard as the blood pumping in my veins, and bore down at my best friend.
“Stay away from her.”
He held up his hands and smiled like he was trying to calm me down. “Hey, man, no worries. She broke my nose and kicked me in the balls. I think that ship’s sailed.” He narrowed his eyes and looked confused. “But if you don’t want her, why can’t anyone else have a shot?”
Why, indeed?
The shit I’d pulled on Tate over the years could be chalked up to hate, anger, need for control.
But not letting other guys near her? That wasn’t a game.
That was about me not being okay with anyone else’s mouth or hands on her.
And I needed to let that shit go.
“I’m not standing in her way anymore,” I said calmly. “If she wants to date and screw every guy in school, she can have a ball. I’m done.”
“Well good,” Madoc said, stretching his fat mouth into a wide grin. “Because word is she went out with Ben Jamison last night.”
The walls closed in. Madoc got smaller and smaller.
Ben and Tate? No, no, no…
My long-sleeved black thermal was suffocating me, and for the first time since last fall I actually felt inclined to rip off the goddamn sleeves again just to breathe.
“That’s fine,” I clipped out, barely unscrewing my jaws to speak. “I couldn’t care less. They can all have her.”
But I never, for a single second, meant it.