Free Love Tap by M.N. Forgy Page A

voice is laced with so much hate it burns through my chest. I’ve seen him angry at a lot of people growing up, but he’s never talked to me like this before.
    “Excuse me?”
    His eyes shoot to mine.
    “The shit about to leave your mouth is about as real as a pair of double D’s.”
    Chase coughs, casually looking the other way as Camden insults me in front of everyone.
    “Hey, you can’t even, like, tell tits are fake if you get the right doctor.” The bimbo chimes from the sidelines. She pulls the neck of her shirt down and an overly tanned, large, breast pops out. Dark nipple and all just sitting on the table. I look around to see if I’m being punked.
    “See, no scars.” She smiles at everyone, as if she just showed us baby pictures and not her bare breast in the middle of a crowded bar. “Feel them.” She grabs Camden’s hand and plows his palm over the top of her nipple. His hand is large and covers a lot of the exposed skin. My fingers dig into the table. My body defies my jealously and my nipples perk at the thought of Camden’s scarred hand fondling my own chest.
    “Look at that Tate, no scars.” Camden slides his hooded gaze from his hand to me. Fire licks up my limbs, and my cheeks feel like they’re ready to combust.
    “Hahaha! Fuck you,” I snarl before pushing away from the table, done with Camden’s games. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to strangle him so much before.
    “You can feel if you want,” Bimbo offers.
    Ignoring her, I grab my purse and head toward the car.
    Reaching outside, my chest constricts with the incredible urge to burn this fucking place to the ground in a fit of rage.
    Why in the hell did I come back here? Sure, I was miserable in LA, but at least I wasn’t feeling like this. Camden doesn’t want an apology, he wants to hurt me.
    Sprinkles of cold rain pelt my skin, cooling my flustered state.
    “Tate!” that low growl with an undertone of silk calls after me and I cringe.
    Ignoring him, my feet crunch into the gravel from the parking lot.
    Fingers wrap around my bicep and I’m turned around before I realize what is happening.
    “Why did you come back?” Camden is face to face with me, his chest heaving. I tear from his grip, staring at him with a vengeance.
    My lips part to answer him, and the skies open up allowing a harsh rain to fall. “Tell me! Why you are here, damn it. You at least owe me that much!”
    “I came back to mend things with my family and go pro, I told you that.”
    “Why do you want to go pro? Why here?”
    My eyes sting, my heart beating so fast I can barely catch my breath.
    “I came back because I was miserable, and I wanted… I wanted to come home.” The words come out as if I was a homesick child wanting their parents. “I wasn’t doing what I wanted, I was doing what I thought was the right thing to do.” I continue, hoping to come off a little more mature.
    Rain sticks to his lashes, his shirt outlining his chest perfectly.
    A commotion catches my attention behind him. His date is stumbling in her ridiculous heels, as she tries to cover her head with her tiny purse. Makeup running down her face like melted crayons.
    “She’s nothing like me.” The words fall from my mouth before I can stop them.
    He glances at me, his thumb rubbing his chin.
    “Exactly,” his reply comes quick, and hard.
    It’s a knife to the chest. Fuck I hate him!
    I blink rapidly, not sure if it’s tears or rain that are falling down my face. My head replaying moments of him and I as a kid, ones my heart won’t let go and make things like this much harder to get through.
    “You really are an asshole, you know that?”
    He scoffs at me, looking away.
    Turning, I jerk the car door open, just as Chloe reaches the driver side.
    Getting in, she stalls, her mouth opening and closing as she searches for the right thing to say.
    “Tate, he’s not doing anything to keep you his, so why are you hurting yourself trying to make him happy?”
    She’s