Page 30 of Heathen

"Are you holding it hostage or do you plan to give that bag to me?"

He holds it out almost immediately, an apology on his lips, as his eyes sweep down me once again.

That's the difference between the two of us. He doesn't bother to hide his appreciation for me, whereas I'd rather stick needles in my eyes than be caught admiring him. I yank the bag from his hands, but not before my fingers brush over his warm skin. I swear the man must've been shuffling around the room in his socks in order to pool enough electricity in his body to shock me as hard as it did.

"Are you serious?" I ask, pulling my hand back and cradling it to my chest.

The bag falls at our feet and he stares at his hand as if he's never seen it before in his entire life.

"You're going to blame me for static electricity?"

I narrow my eyes at him, but I don't say a word, choosing to crouch again and gather the bag.

He does the same thing, our heads hitting in the middle so hard I see stars. This time, I can't help but fall to my ass, grateful the towel stays in place so my bare ass isn't touching the carpet. I don't care how clean this place looks, it's still a hotel room.

I scramble to get off the floor, and thankfully, Ellis decides he has had enough and stands, backing up a few feet to give me room.

"You're gonna need to let go of the towel with at least one hand," he says when I can't seem to get my feet under me while still clutching it to my chest.

"Wouldn't you just love that?" I snarl, my face flaming with embarrassment.

"I wouldn't hate it," he mutters as he inches closer.

"Stop! You've done enough," I snap, but he doesn't listen.

As if I'm a child having a meltdown, he picks me up by the shoulders and places me back down on my feet, making an un-uh noise when I go to bend to get the bag.

"I'll get it," he mutters.

My lip twitches with frustration by the time he hands over the bag, but I don't say a word as I snatch it from his stupid hand and turn back into the room, sliding the lock in place.

His chuckle from the other side of the room meets my ears, but it's the "Jesus, woman, lighten up," that rubs me the wrong way.

There have been moments when I think the man might be a decent human being but they all fly out of the window when I pull the clothing he so sweetly bought for me.

I want to cry, not knowing which is better, the size extra small sweatpants and the t-shirt that saysI got hitched in Vegasor the disgusting dress in the bathroom trash.

"And it just keeps getting worse," I mutter when I find a sports bra and the tiniest pair of panties I've ever seen still left in the bag.

The bra I don't feel like I can go without, but those nothing-but-a-string panties go right into the trash with that damn dress.

I do my best to hold my head up high as I leave the room, despite feeling like an uncoordinated sloth when I finally gather the courage to open the door. I'll never be a fashionista, but I know better than being a grown-ass woman wearing a pink-and-purple tie-dyed shirt and turquoise sweatpants.

"Thank you for the clothing," I say, with as much snark as I can manage, noting how his eyes drop below my waist, no doubt picturing me in those tiny underwear.

"Glad it all fits," he says, as if he can't see how short the sweats are on my already short legs. I swear he purchased them from the toddler department. I feel like a stuffed sausage.

"What happens next?" I ask, hoping the man has a plan.

I told him everything I knew last night, and, of course, he didn't seem very impressed to find out the entire story only lasted a couple of sentences. I commended him for not calling me stupid although I was certain I could see the thought in his eyes.

He shrugs. "I don't know. It's not like I can call my teammates and tell them I fucked up and married the first woman I met after moving to Vegas."

I don't know why thefucked-uppart of that statement stings so much.

It shouldn't bother me. Neither of us wants to be in this situation, and I'm the one responsible for putting us both here. As angry as I am that he showed up, I thought through all of it last night. I don't know that I could've lasted in a place like that. I don't do well under the judgment of others. It's why I wanted out of the small town I moved away from in Texas.

Chapter 13

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