Page 59 of F*ck You

“Hell yes to the pizza,” I replied, as I moved farther into the condo. The wine buzz was wearing off, and I regretted not grabbing a bottle of something before leaving my home. I’d wanted to get out of there as fast as humanly possible.

I ended up checking out all the pictures in the living room. There were a handful that featured a girl, and my stomach twisted in knots. If he had an ex-girlfriend he wasn’t quite over yet, I didn’t know if I could handle it. Even if they would never get back together, it was too hard to compete with a memory.

Larsen wrapped his arms around me from behind. I turned toward him and his lips appeared at my forehead, resting there as he held me close. “Whatchya thinking about, Starfish?”

I closed my eyes and took in his clean-shaven scent. It wasn’t too often that either of them were able to smell like normal people, but I could still make out the salty scent that permeated him. They’d never be able to fully mask the smell of the ocean.

He must have realized what I was looking at, because he continued before I could respond. “It’s not what you think, I promise.”

“Then what is it?” I whispered back, my words uncertain.

“It’s his story to tell. But I promise you more than anything, it’s not that.” His words were so sincere, I wanted to believe them, but tendrils of steel crept across my chest as my internal instinct worked to protect my heart. I’d been hurt so much and so many times, my immediate reaction was to curl up and hide from the world.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t do that right now, because my safe room was currently occupied by my ex-fiancé and my arch nemesis.

Wow, was my life fucked up or what? I needed to find a new safe space.

We ended up devouring two whole frozen pizzas, and the comfort food was much more appealing than the fancy stuff at the party. I supposed an eventful night such as tonight, coupled with bottomless wine glasses, could do that to a person. Strange thing, though, was Chase didn’t touch a single glass. At least not that I had noticed. Maybe he just didn’t like the taste. It was an acquired taste that not everyone obtained, but I felt like there was something I was missing which I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

I fell asleep on the couch, and the last thing I remembered was the feeling of weightlessness as I was carried up a set of stairs and deposited onto something soft and warm.

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