A Dose of Pretty Poison: A Brother’s Best Friend Romance (Pretty Poison Trilogy Book 1)

I drive down the street, windows open, with the wind flowing through my hair. Today was amazing. I watched my favorite student land a trick that took me years to attempt. And I know you’re not supposed to have favorites, but she’s incredible. You can’t be around her and not love her.Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

I was hoping Hayes would stop by the rink like he usually does. He acts like a hardass, but really, I think he’s just as proud of her as I am. Though he keeps saying she reminds him of me. Personally, I think she’s better.

When she wins the Olympics one day, I’ll be smiling and telling people that I called it before anyone else.

It’s silly, really, how worried I felt when he wasn’t answering my texts. Normally I would at least know he saw them, but they weren’t even being opened. If my call went to voicemail, I was going to try getting ahold of Devin next.

I pull up to the lake, finding Hayes already waiting for me. He’s standing outside of his truck and leaning against it. It should be illegal, the things he does to me. Even seeing him right now, with a pair of sunglasses on to help with his hangover, he’s unfairly hot, and all I want is to feel his arms around me.

Getting to spend some time with him, no matter how little, is the perfect end to my day. I let my mind wander, picturing what it would be like if we were together and didn’t have to hide. If he could come over after work and lie in bed with me, watching a movie while we talk about how our days went.

Maybe it’s wrong to have hope, but I can’t help it.

As I turn off my car and get out, I smile at him. He pushes off his truck, walking right for me. The second he’s close enough, he grabs my face with both hands and presses his lips to mine. It’s so needy, so desperate, that it takes my breath away.

And that’s when he lights the fuse.

Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against mine with his hands everywhere. On my face. In my hair. Sliding down my back to pull me just a little bit closer. He pulls away, kissing my forehead, and warmth spreads through my whole body.

“Fuck, please don’t hate me for this.”

My heart leaps in my chest and the smile falls off my face. “Hate you for what?”

But he doesn’t respond. And with every second of silence, I can feel the fire getting closer to the bomb—ready to shatter my heart into so many pieces that it’ll never go back together the same.

I push myself out of his hold, feeling the tears pool in my eyes. “Hate you for what, Hayes?”

“Lai,” he says as he tries to reach for my hand, but I yank it away like I’ve been burned.

“Don’t!”

Throughout my life, I’ve broken bones, lost loved ones, and been betrayed—but none of that even begins to compare to the pain in my chest. It’s tight, unforgiving as it rips me to shreds. For a second, I even consider breaking open my ribcage and tearing out the culprit.

I’m sure it would hurt less.

My breakdown is right on the surface, threatening to take me down without an ounce of mercy. And the longer I stand here with him, the worse it gets. He’s looking at me, like this hurts him as much as it does me, but if that were the case, he wouldn’t be doing it.

“I’m so sorry,” he tells me. “We just…We’re not meant to be together.”

The knife twists inside my chest, and I don’t think there’s anything he could have said that would hurt me more. Every last part of me that held onto the idea of him and me disintegrates right in front of my eyes.

“Please don’t go,” he says as he watches me step backward. “I don’t want this to be how we leave things.”

I shake my head, continuing to distance myself from him. “I have to. I can’t—”

A hiccup interrupts my words, and I throw my hand over my mouth as the bomb explodes inside of me, destroying every single thing in its path. Hayes takes a step toward me, but for the first time in my life, that’s the last thing I want right now.

I may not have much resistance when it comes to him, and I may cave before I should at times, but as I stand here, feeling the pain of my heart breaking, I refuse to let him see me cry. I will not be the pathetic little girl who sobs in his arms, begging him to change his mind—even if it’s the only thing that could make me feel better right now.

Sparing one last agonizing look at him, I turn around and walk to my car. I can feel his gaze on me as I back out of the parking space, and one last call of my name meets my ears, but I won’t stop.

I can’t.

The moment I get far enough away, the dam breaks, and there’s no stopping the tears from falling. I try to keep driving, to get home where I can crawl into my bed and never leave, but as my eyes start to blur, I’m forced to pull over.

I thought we were getting somewhere. Yeah, I knew what this was when we started. He told me as much before anything happened. But that was when we were just hooking up—sneaking around with the sole intention of sexual gratification.

Somewhere along the way, things changed. He looked at me differently. Like I mattered. Like he cared. And the part of me I had locked into a box, the part of me that dreamed of a life with him, broke out and fed on the hope that swelled inside my chest.

Now all that’s left are the broken pieces, and there’s no one to blame but myself.

I knew better than to get involved with him. I knew the chances of me coming out of this undamaged were slim. But I thought I could handle it.

And then I let myself get too comfortable.

I stupidly thought he was actually starting to feel something for me. That the night we laid in his bed, kissing with no intentions other than being close, meant something. But I should’ve known better.

I was never anything but a good time to him.

Barely able to see the screen, I try calling Mali, but it goes to voicemail. My hand grips at my chest, pressing to try to relieve the pain. It’s no use. I’m going to feel every moment of this until there’s nothing left of me. And to make matters worse, I can’t even see to get home.

The thought of calling Devin passes through my mind, but it’s her brother. She might be my friend, but she’s naturally going to be biased. And besides, I don’t want him knowing how he broke me.

How he single handedly tore me apart.

But I can’t stay here, pulled over on the side of the road where Hayes can find me and see the damage he caused. I need to get home, but I can barely see my phone, let alone out the windshield. While I might not care about a car accident at the moment, I’m not trying to take someone else with me for my stupidity.

There’s only one other person I can call, and he answers on the second ring.

I CAN’T BREATHE. OR at the very least, I can’t breathe enough. Each inhale feels too shallow, and the tightness in my chest doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. I’m stuck in pure agony, like my own personal hell made just for me.

A knock on the window spurs hope inside my chest, as if it hasn’t learned any better yet. I turn my head and there’s a part of me that wants to see Hayes standing there, ready to say that he didn’t mean it.

That he doesn’t want to lose me.

That he loves me the same way I love him.

And when I see Monty staring back at me, I somehow break a little more.

I open the door and he wraps his arms around me, holding me close as I cry violently on his shoulder.

“You were right,” I sob. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“No. Shh,” he tells me. “You were blinded by your feelings for him. But you deserve so much better. You’re going to find someone better.”

“I don’t want to,” I answer through my tears. “I don’t want anyone.”

His fingers run through my hair, but it’s not the same as when Hayes did it. Because when he did it, I felt warm. All I feel as I stand here now is empty.

“You’re going to be okay,” Monty whispers. “I promise. You’re going to be alright.”

IT TAKES THREE HOURS, a whole box of tissues, and four rounds of vomiting my entire stomach into Mali’s toilet, but she finally manages to get me somewhat calmed down. The second Monty got ahold of her, she immediately left work and told him to bring me to her house. And my breakdown started all over again in her arms.

“Can I fight him?” she asks. “Or at the very least, we can go all Carrie Underwood on his truck.”

Normally, I would find her excitement comical, but right now, all I feel is numb. There’s no color left in my world. All that remains are shades of black and gray.

I force a smile to appease her, but judging by the way she frowns, it wasn’t even close to believable. She lies down beside me and moves the pillow I was holding so she can snuggle against me.

“It hurts, Mal.”

She sighs, rubbing my back. “I know it does, babe. I know it does.”