Page 36 of Hateful Games

“But you wanted to?”

“God no.” Liar, Liar… pants on fire. “I don’t want anywhere near that thing.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t even feel it when he was pressed against you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was too busy trying to get away to measure his dick with my invisible inch tape to sate your curiosity,” I mumble sarcastically.

She sighs. “What a shame.”

“I have no regrets. I’m not spending a second alone with him for the rest of my trip.” Especially after his parting words. The man has declared war and I’ll be damned if I lose.

“Well, I gotta go, Ro,” says Bianca from the other end, bringing me back to the present. “And don’t forget my shopping list.”

“And face your wrath? I value my life,” I joke, making her laugh.

“Love you.”

“Bye, Bee.” I hang up.

Last night, after I changed into Nova’s hoodie—which I ignore I’m still wearing and also slept in—he took me out from a secret exit and brought me straight back to his apartment.

I didn’t fight because the last thing I wanted was to face the hungry crowd, who saw me being manhandled and mauled by their favorite boxer. I wanted to forget it ever happened but the thousands of friend and follower request I got on social media threw water all over my plans.

Switching off my phone, I went to sleep.

And the notifications were still coming rapidly when I checked this morning.

Although, I’m feeling a lot better after talking to Bee. She’s the only therapy I need.

Sleep now forgotten, which is a shock because I’m hardly a cheerful morning person, I decide to face the day and my two companions. One of whom I haven’t seen since the fight while the other left me alone as soon as we got home. Probably to sleep outside on the couch because the other side of the bed is untouched.

I reply to my mom’s text—nothing from dear old Dad—that I missed yesterday, I message her back saying I reached here safely. And that her precious future son-in-law was a wonderful chauffeur.

Because hello, delulu.

Leaving my phone on the nightstand, I slide down the bed, grab random clothes from my suitcase, and walk into the bathroom. It’s only seven in the morning, so I’ll have to kill some time before I can go sightseeing and shopping. I’m not the kind of person who feels weird exploring alone or having lunch by myself.

In fact, I love it.

Just me, myself, and I.

And of course, a smutty book to get lost into.

Under the quietness and mist of the shower, my mind travels to the memories of the previous night. I let the feelings they evoked in me reign. Admit the rush of thrill I got when he didn’t treat me like I was made of porcelain. Since we’ve collided, he never has. Unlike most people in my life, to whom I’m simply invisible.

Discardable.

Tradable.

His filthy yet arrogant words play on a loop in my head as I run my hands down the slope of my neck. I pause, spreading my fingers around the column of my throat. Mimicking the way he did it. With my eyes closed, I can almost imagine it’s his lingering touch still ghosting over my skin. Fingers tightening and squeezing ever so lightly.

The unleashed angst in his gaze that wanted to push for more.

Always holding the promise of crossing the line.

“I wouldn’t be as ruthless with you if I thought you were less than my equal, Rose.” It was the fire behind this confession that hasn’t stopped haunting and invading a dark corner inside me, and kept me tossing and turning.

As I become lost, everything from that moment replays as if I’m right there again. His sculpted and toned body towering and unyielding against mine. Burning with bridled aggression.

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