Page 49 of Trust Me

People do it all the time, I tell myself. Plus, he really does seem nice, and he’s cute. There’s no harm in me going on a date, right? So I send him my address, telling him to wait for me in the lobby.

I stay holed up in my room all day, avoiding Elio. To his credit, he doesn’t bang on my door or text me. He lets me be, except for the time he knocked and said lunch was on the other side of the door. I waited a few minutes, then opened the door, seeing a grilled cheese on a plate with a side salad.

I knew I was being childish, yet I couldn’t help it. I’d never experienced this before, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I hated the feeling of giving someone the power to hurt me, and it made me realize how close we’ve gotten and how bad that was.

We shouldn’t have gotten to this point anyways. It’s for the best if we take some time apart, so I can try to figure out how to get rid of these stupid feelings.

Around four, I start to get ready for my date, my feet dragging the entire time because the last thing I feel like doing is getting ready to go out for a second night in a row. It may also be the fact that I’m nervous, the way I always am for dates when I know in my gut it’s not going to work out.

I pull my curls into a half-up, half-down style. I slip on a deep wine-colored dress that’s tight-fitting, with a sweetheart neckline, skinny straps, and a slit that runs from the hemline at the knee to my upper thigh.

I pair it with black pumps that have a criss-cross strap around my ankle. I put on a matching red color for my lips, leaving the rest of my face bare. If he doesn’t like my natural face, then that’s too bad.

I’m nearly ready, throwing my things into a black clutch, when I get a text from Adam.

My entire body goes stiff, nausea in my gut. I really don’t want to do this now that the time has come, but I can’t cancel on him at the last second. It’ll be fine. We can get to know each other, enjoy some good food, and then I’ll get an Uber home.

Easy.

I open my door, squaring my shoulders while giving myself a mental pep talk as I walk down the hall.

In the living room, Elio’s eyes are already on mine, like he was waiting. He must’ve heard my heels clacking on the floor. His inhale is sharp, his eyes roaming my body from head to toe as anguish begins to take over his face.

I look away, keeping my gaze toward the door. I’m nearly there when Elio speaks up, his voice cold yet laced with fury.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” is all I say, not looking directly at him as he stands from the couch, rounding it to come toward me.

He plants one hand on the door, the vein in his neck throbbing. “Not until you tell me where.”

I scowl at him, finally meeting his gaze. “You don’t own me. I’m not a prisoner. I’m your roommate, remember?”

His jaw works back and forth. “We’re friends, remember? Tell me where, please. I’m going to worry all night if you don’t,” he admits, his anger on a tight leash.

I fold my lips together before standing taller in my heels. “I’m going on a date if you must know. Now move.”

I take a step toward him, but he doesn’t budge, making our bodies nearly touch. I can smell his cologne, the mix of spice and smoked wood. It threatens to crack my game face.

“With who? When did you even meet?” He throws his head back in disbelief, the motion giving me the motivation I need to go on this date.

“Is it that hard to believe that I was able to land one? God,” I huff, a fake laugh tumbling after it. “We met last night. He’s a friend of Theo’s from the football team, and he’s waiting in the lobby. Now, get out of the way, please.” I bat my lashes at him, laying the sarcasm on thick.

His face screws up, his hand running through his hair in frustration. “No, that’s not what I meant. I know how you feel about your firsts, so I’m surprised you’re going out with someone you only met last night.”

“Not that I need to explain it to you, but that’s how you get to know people. You meet, go on a date, and then maybe he’ll kiss me.” I pause, noting the darkness in his eyes at what I said. “And maybe, just maybe I’ll let him fuck me tonight. I’m feeling pretty bold. Who knows.”

He pushes off the door, crowding me against the wall with his forearms resting above my head. “If you let him touch you, dolcezza, I promise he’ll never play a game of football again. It’d be hard to do with broken bones.”

“You won’t touch him, like you’re never going to touch me, right?” I challenge him, my voice shaky. I don’t miss the way Elio always keeps his distance from me, careful not to brush or touch me since the day I moved in.

Except for when I was sick.

Our eyes meet in a fiery blaze, the intensity of it burning, making me want to tear my eyes away before we both get turned to smoke.

Elio sinks to his knees, keeping his eyes on me as he lifts my heel off the ground and onto his lap.

“What are you doing?” I breathe.

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