Page 81 of Getting It Twisted

This used to feel right. It used to feel like the only correct thing in my sad excuse for a life. But it doesn’t feel the same as it once did. Don’t tell me Daniel ruined casual sex for me too. It’s all I have left.

“Hey!” someone yells from outside, followed by the dull thud of a body hitting a wall. “All right, all right! But make it quick.”

I break the kiss and put my hands on Moe’s chest. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry about them,” he says, leaning in to kiss me again.

A door slams open, and footsteps barge into the room. Next thing I know, someone rips Moe away from me, and he doubles over from a punch to the gut.

Daniel looms behind him, a thunderous expression on his face. “Get out.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Moe growls and grabs him by the shirt, fist raised.

“Go ahead,” Daniel says, nostrils flaring.

They glare at each other for a few moments. With a snort and a “fuck this,” Moe stumbles out of the room.

As soon as we’re alone, Daniel shifts his attention to me. “Get up.”

“Here to finish the job?” I ask, spreading my legs to clarify the meaning.

“No. I’m taking you home.” His hand reaches out for me, and his knuckles . . . His knuckles are tinged with red.

“Oh, baby,” I drawl, “is that blood?”

I haven’t seen Daniel fight in . . . how long? He should show this side of himself more often; he’s hot when he’s angry.

“I said, get up.” Sick of waiting for me to take his hand, he grabs my upper arm and pulls me to my feet.

I struggle against his hold. “Lemme go.”

“What did you take?”

“Not sure. A bit of this, a bit of that. Feels good, though, and I was about to feel even better. If you’re not gonna finish what he started, you might as well leave.”

“I’m not going to leave you. You’re coming with me.”

I lean backward, but instead of hitting the couch, I sway unsteadily, and Daniel catches me by the shoulder. I feel faint—untethered to my own limbs and estranged from my mind. Then again, I don’t remember the last proper meal I got in me. It might be that. Might also be the insane amounts of alcohol and drugs I’ve consumed these past few days.

“What if I don’t want to?” Again, I try to shake him off. My childish stubbornness drives evenmemad sometimes, but now I want to ride that wave. Daniel deserves to sweat a bit. “Come on.” I grab onto him and slide my arms around his neck. “Just continue where the other guy left off. I know you want to.”Prove to me you’re just like them so I can stop caring about you, because caring about you hurts.

“I thought you agreed to quit fucking other people.”

“Well yeah, but that was before you broke things off with me and left me alone in that house!”

His eyes soften. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Whatever.” I glare at him, delighting in the uncertainty that flickers across his face.

“I want to talk to you,” he says and glances around the room—at the empty beer cans, the drug paraphernalia, and the general filthy state of the place. “But not here.”

“Why not? Whatever you want to say to me, you can say it right here.”

His face twists with frustration. “Could you at least put your shirt on?”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, baby,” I say with a smirk and an obscene gesture with my hips. “Or does it distract you too much? Won’t be able to help yourself?”

He throws my shirt at me. “Just shut up and put it on.”

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