Page 21 of Chic Steel

Nothing would stop me.

7

ELLA

Someone knocks on the door,and I know exactly who it is.

“Occupied,” I choke out.

I don’t know why I’m so upset. I blow out a controlled breath. Well, I know why I’m upset, but does it have to happen in a fancy corporate suite toilet while his coworkers are on the other side of the door?

So a guy made a gross comment. Big deal. People are gross every day.

The fact it was in front of everyone? In front of Oliver? That stabs me in the chest. To have my fears broadcast to everyone by the shitty drunk.

Do I announce to everyone I can see their nipples? Nope. There’s wind on the balcony, everyone’s nipples are hard and do you see me shouting it from the rooftops and asking inappropriate questions?

And that’s not the worst part. The worst part is he’s right. I am just a piercer. Don’t know why I’m here, why Oliver invited me to his fancy suite for a sports game. I’m out of place and it shows. It was easy to forget my fears while Oliver’s arm was wrapped around my waist, while he whispered in my ear, but inthe harsh bathroom light, my red lipstick stark against the black of my clothes, it’s not as easy to dismiss.

I stick holes in people. It doesn’t make sense that he’d want to be with me. Should have left and gone home instead of coming to the bathroom and watching the despair play out on my face. Why is it when you can see the emotions on your face it makes you want to cry more?

“I’m coming in,” he says behind the door. Good thing I locked it.

The door handle turns and the door swings open.

“Damn it. I thought I locked it.” Emotional distress must make me forgetful. I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the vanity. No escaping now.

“I’m glad you didn’t.” He steps into the room and the door clicks shut behind him. The turn of the lock echoes through the room.

Though fancy, the bathroom’s standard. Small, with the basics, and a full-length mirror beside the door.

“I was about to come out.”

“Were you? You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye?” He leans against the locked door.

“No,” I mumble.

“So your plan wasn’t to duck out of here when half-time finished and ignore me?”

“No. I was going to text you after I left.”

“But you were going to leave.”

I shrug and sniff, the sound closer to tears than I’d like. “I didn’t think you’d still want me here.”

Oliver leaves the door and grasps my upper arms, sliding his warm hands up and down my cold limbs. Didn’t even realise I was cold.

The silver by his temples shimmers in the light. “Why would you think that?”

I shrug again, and his hands slide to hold mine. “Because he’s right.”

“Who’s right? Josh?” he asks. I nod and he scoffs. “He’s a dickhead.”

“What? He works for you.”

“And? Doesn’t mean he isn’t a dickhead, which I discovered tonight. I’m sorry he said that to you.” He rubs a thumb across my cheek. “What’s the matter, Ella?”

“Nothing.” It comes out tight and high, and my eyes blur.

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