Page 32 of Dare To Live

“Stop calling me that!”

I smirk. “Why? All you need is a cheerleader outfit and you’ll look like all the girls back in school, again. You remember them, right? The ones who you desperately wanted to fit in with.” I take another large swallow of bourbon. “How about a toast? To all those guys you spread your legs for. Did you learn any new tricks?”

“I learned that not all relationships are based on control and fear.”

The alcohol sloshes over the side of my glass when I laugh. “Congratu-fucking-lations. Let’s drink to that.” Another mouthful of bourbon burns its way down my throat.

“What about you? What did you learn from the dozens of women you’ve been with?”

I slam the glass down and fill it up again. “That’s an easy question to answer. I learned that it doesn’t matter how good you make someone feel, or how much you love them, they’re all going to fucking leave you in the end.”

Chapter 19

Arabella

Images of Eli, naked in bed, pleasuring other women fill my head, and jealousy eats away at me.

I let him go. I shouldn’t care who he fucked.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him how long it took him to invite someone else to his bed, but I don’t.

I’m not about to tell him it took four fucking years before I slept with someone again. That even then, the armor that had grown over my heart wouldn’t crack. That trusting someone with my body was impossible. In the end, the few times I had sex hadn’t been enough for me. Because Eli had ruined me for every other man.

I watch him down another glass of bourbon, his gaze locked on mine the whole time.

“So, you’re just going to drink yourself into the bottom of that bottle? Is this how you deal with all your problems?”

Eli refills his glass. “It’s how I’m going to deal with the problem standing in front of me.”

“At least eat something first.”

“Don’t act like you’re my fucking mother.”

“Then act like a grownup,” I snap.

Swirling the contents of his glass, he gulps it down.

“Slow down. You’ll make yourself sick.” The words leave me begrudgingly. I don’t want to see him flat on his face on the floor.

Eli smirks and tops up his glass. “Scared I might touch you if I’m drunk enough?”

Crossing my arms, I lean against the door. “You’re in for a shock if you try.”

I hadn’t expected him to put his hand around my neck earlier, and I froze. But this time I’ll be prepared if he does it again. The gut reaction of fear I’d felt has settled but it’s left me on high alert.

This older version of Eli is angrier, more volatile, than the one I remember. His emotions are fiercer, unpredictable, and erratic.

A pang of sadness sweeps through me. It’s because Kellan has gone. The other boy had been his balance. The cool-headed one who kept Eli calm and focused.

He gives me a once-over, his smile derisive. “I’ve already had my hand wrapped around your pretty little throat. What are you going to do, Princess? Hit me with another pillow?”

“No, next time I’ll have you on your ass.” My response is calm and cool.

“Sure, you will.”

The bottle of bourbon is half empty, and he doesn’t seem to be slowing down. I sigh and straighten, then advance into the kitchen.

“What the fuck are you doing now?” he growls.

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