“I’m not her keeper, man. The woman does what she wants.” He didn’t move, but his body radiated coiled tension. I kept my focus on the pulse pounding in Josh’s neck, refusing to look up at Riley.
“Ember, please, let me explain!” He took a step toward Josh, but the simple tilt of his head had Riley stepping back. I didn’t want to know what Josh’s face looked like to get that kind of reaction out of the fearless Riley.
“I’m not really sure there’s much you could say to me, Riley.” I didn’t bother glancing at him. I’d seen enough of his face when it was contorted with lust. “I think I saw everything I needed to know.”
“You’ve been distant this week.” What a lame-ass excuse. “I just needed some comfort, and Kayla was there, and one thing led to another. It didn’t mean anything!”
I dragged my gaze away from the back of Josh’s head, finally meeting Riley’s eyes. I will not cry. I will not break down. “A year, Riley . . . ?” My voice trailed off because I couldn’t speak past the mountain-sized lump that had formed there. “We’re done!” I choked it out and bit down on my lower lip, needing to feel the pain.
“You know about . . .” He shook his head and launched back into his tirade. “I needed someone, Ember! I needed someone to care about me! Where have you been? You’ve been so wrapped up in your family drama that you never stopped to think about what’s going on in my life!”
“Let’s go, Josh.”
“You’re not taking my girlfriend anywhere!” Riley shouted.
“She doesn’t look much like your girlfriend,” Josh drawled slowly.
Riley swung, but only connected with Josh’s hand as he caught the attempted punch.
Josh didn’t miss. His fist busted into Riley’s mouth with a crack, the sound nauseating, yet gratifying. Riley flew backward, landing in the snow. Josh stood over him, shaking his head when Riley moved to stand. “Don’t get up.”
Blood stained the back of the ivory sleeve as Riley wiped his mouth. “What? Afraid I’ll kick your ass?”
Josh let loose a wry smile. “Nawh. Afraid I’ll end up in jail when I fuck up that pretty little face of yours.” Did Riley pale? It looked like it from here. “As December said, we’re done here.”
A small spark of satisfaction pushed back my wave of tears. Thank God for Josh.
Chapter Five
Anger choked me the whole drive to my parents’ cabin, leaving me seething in silence. The trip lasted about fifteen minutes, into a nice but not-quite-as-nice-as-Riley’s area outside Breckenridge. Our cabin was more secluded, and the bonus was that Riley wouldn’t be there.
How could he and Kayla do this? How could I not see it happening in front of me? They’d had sex, repeatedly, when he wouldn’t so much as go beneath-the-belt with me.
Nausea rolled through my stomach as we pulled up the driveway in front of the cabin. My stomach clenched and when my mouth watered I knew it was coming. “Let me out!” I shouted, fumbling, not realizing the door wasn’t locked. Josh raced around the Jeep, opening the door and lowering me down in one smooth motion.
The snow came nearly to my knees, but I trudged a few feet away through the heavy mess before I lost my stomach contents. Over and over I heaved, letting go of my dinner, my bile, and the last stable thing I thought I had in the world. I had the common sense to back up a few feet before I fell to my knees, sobbing.
I screamed my voice hoarse while the snow melted into my jeans, soaking my legs in an icy reminder that this was not a dream. No more dreams. They had frozen and shattered the moment I opened that damned door. Every carefully made plan was no more. There was nothing certain left. Not Riley. Not Dad. Not even Mom.
“What else do you want?” I screamed up to whoever wasn’t listening. “I have nothing left to give! Are you done with me yet?” I sagged back down into the snow, covering my face with my frozen fingers as I let loose ugly, horrendous sobs.
A warm coat engulfed me, and the scent told me it belonged to Josh. He lifted me easily into his arms, carrying me up to the cabin.
“No.” I forced out, and he stopped. “I need to walk.” His arms tensed momentarily like he wasn’t going to let me go, but he gently set me on my feet.
“I’ll get the bags.” His retreating footsteps crunched through the snow.
One foot in front of the other, I made it the last ten feet to the door. The snow was packed, leaving a hard crust on top, but I relished the difficulty because it reminded me I was still alive, still here.
Feeling this, the pain, the chill, the strain of my muscles was as necessary as breathing.
I pulled the keys from my sweater and opened the door. Flipping the light switch brought the cabin to life in all my mother’s Pottery Barn glory. The door opened into a small mudroom, where our skis still stood propped in their holders from our Thanksgiving trip. I crossed the living room and turned up the thermostat to a respectable level. The stove whooshed from the corner as the propane kicked in and the flames came to life. At least the pilot hadn’t gone out. That was something, right?
The cabin had a kitchen, dining room, living room, bathroom, and three small bedrooms. I ran my fingers lovingly over the enlarged canvas print of our family on the slopes last year. I stroked Dad’s smile as my fingers tingled, feeling seeping back in, hearing his laugh as surely as if he’d been standing there next to me. My mother’s eyes were bright, in love. Now she was a hollowed-out shell of the person in this picture.