When I Kissed Him The Comment Called Me Cheap Chapter 07

When I Kissed Him The Comment Called Me Cheap Chapter 07

“Something wrong?” Rory asked lazily, leaning back.

I glanced at Henson, who stood in front of the car.

“Rory, can you go handle this for me? Tell him I’m not here.”

Rory got the hint and stepped out.

He adjusted his sleeves and announced, “Carrie says she’s not here.”

I stared, lost for words.

Henson shot a look at Rory and moved to get into the car.

Rory pulled him back roughly.

Henson’s face turned dark. “Who are you?”

Rory cracked his knuckles, looking like someone you didn’t want to mess with. “None of your business.”

“Get Carrie down here. I need to talk to her.”

Rory shot him a disdainful look. “Someone who’s dead should stay in their grave.”

Henson finally snapped. He threw a punch at Rory.

But his fist hit nothing but air.

Rory had already seen it coming. He sidestepped and, from behind and to the side, delivered a sharp kick to the back of Henson’s calf.

Thud.

Just like that, Henson dropped to one knee right beside my car door, completely caught off guard.

Even I flinched at the sound.

Rory slipped back into the car, hands in his pockets, looking insufferably smug. Still the same tough guy who’d ruled high school.

He pulled the door shut again.

But it didn’t close all the way.

Because Henson, still on one knee, had blocked it with his hand.

His deep-set eyes searched the interior of the van and found me, tucked away in the shadows.

“Carrie, I’ve looked for you for two years. Where have you been? What did I do wrong? How could you be so heartless, breaking up with me out of nowhere and then vanishing without a trace?”

I pried his fingers off one by one. Long, slender, elegant—the same hands I’d admired when I first met him at the front desk, signing his name with a pen.

Such pretty hands didn’t deserve to get hurt.

“You couldn’t find me, so you slept with Abia? In my bed?” My voice turned cold. “Do you love me, or do you love the version of yourself that’s hurt and obsessed because you can’t have me?”

I ignored his hand and closed the door, crushing his fingers. His skin turned red.

I opened it again. His face flushed with pain, veins popping on his forehead, but he wouldn’t let go.

I closed it again.

After a few times, Rory sighed, pushed me aside, and took over the door.

He grinned at Henson, “Brace yourself. I’m a lot stronger than her.”

He slammed the door shut. A loud crash echoed in the parking lot. Rory meant it.

Henson pulled his hand away just in time. Otherwise, it would have been a lot worse than a little red mark.

Rory returned to his seat, looked at the driver, and said coldly, “Drive.”

The car pulled away.

Henson took a few steps after us, then stopped.

The air inside the car turned icy cold.

After a long silence, Rory spoke, “Having second thoughts?”

I shook my head. “No.”

How could I?

Actually, I had already known about what the comments mentioned, and I had known for two years.

Back then, the messages Abia sent me weren’t just about Henson showing up at our apartment.

She had deliberately let slip that they had slept together in our apartment that day, dropping hints to rub it in my face.

[He came over drunk that night, and it just sort of happened…]

[I’ll pretend it never happened. I won’t get between you two.]

I’d been disgusted. I’d blocked both of them that day.

It proved Henson only wanted me physically, maybe wanted to own me, but he never loved me. A man who truly loved me would never let that happen, drunk or not.

Rory sighed and patted his shoulder. “Cry if you need to. I’ve got a shoulder for you.”

I blinked.

Then I whacked his shoulder hard.