Page 11 of I'm Not in Love (I Promise)

Turning my emo playlist up, I spend the next hour folding clothes and organizing paperwork. I put my dirty clothes in a hamper in the closet and straighten out my makeup and jewelry on my dresser.

I look everywhere and still don’t find it. I’ll have to check lost and found at school. Or maybe Ethan has it… although that’sdoubtful since today was the first time I’ve seen him in over a week.

Pausing my music, I crack my door and listen for Mischa. When all I hear is blissful silence, I head into the kitchen to make myself something to eat. It’ll be another night of dinner, Netflix, and early bedtime so I’ll be rested for classes tomorrow.

Our fridge is full of leftover appetizers from Mischa’s party, food full of soy and wheat. The very ingredients that’ll throw me into anaphylaxis with one bite. The only other edible thing is a bagged salad. After checking the sad status of my bank account and seeing that DoorDash isn’t an option, I grab the salad and dump it into a bowl with some safe balsamic dressing.

Ethan’s comment from earlier keeps playing in my head as I shove bites of lettuce into my mouth. The words swirl, looping around and coming back to the same two facts.Fat and boring. That’s all I am to him. To everyone.

I can’t take another bite or I’ll barf.

Pushing the bowl aside, I cross the house and yank the front door open. I’m desperate for air… for anything that will ease the acid roiling in my gut.

Hunched over, I gulp a few deep breaths and let the cool air wash over my exposed skin until I’m covered in goosebumps. An unexpected noise from across the yard startles me. I redirect my gaze in its direction but it’s too dark to see anything beyond a few feet in front of me. The worn stone wall that surrounds the perimeter of the property should make me feel safe, yet I keep staring, wondering what lies behind it.

A chill seeps down to my bones. I shiver, unable to shake the feeling that someone or something is watching me. Wrapping my arms around my chest, I stare into the darkness taking in the stark tree limbs swaying in the breeze.

As I’m about to go inside, headlights turn the corner, illuminating the yard. “Nothing’s there. You’re seriously losing it.”

Those headlights get brighter as the car turns into the driveway. Not just any car—Ethan’s white Mercedes.

“What is he doing here?” Wrapping my arms around my chest to ward off the chill, I contemplate sprinting inside and hiding upstairs. He’d leave after a few minutes… I think.

While my feet and brain take their time waging war against each other, Ethan gets out of the car and makes it halfway down the walkway.

“Bee?” He clutches his chest in surprise. “What are you doing out here?”

I give him a quick assessment. He doesn’t look drunk, but I was never any good at realizing when he was high.

“Getting some air. Why are you here?” I force my face into a neutral expression and shift my hands to my hips.

He opens his mouth to start talking but I’m distracted again by a rustling sound in the yard.

“Wait… Quiet for a second,” I say, bringing my finger to his lips.

“What?” he asks, his voice muffled.

“Shh. I think something’s out there.”

We pause for a few breaths, listening. Nothing breaks the silence—no nightbird’s calls. No branches rattling in the breeze. No distant car engines. Only eerie silence.

Ethan grabs my finger and sucks it between his lips. I hate myself when my stomach flips and tingles spread along my skin.

“Nothing’s there, Bee. Let’s go inside.” He grabs my palm and kisses the outside, holding it to his lips for an extra beat. Drawn to his warmth, I move in closer, grateful for his familiar comfort.

I’m disappointed in myself for allowing him to squeeze through the crack of the wall I’ve carefully constructed. But I shove that thought away and nod, letting him pull me inside.

Forgetting that he’s never been to my room here, I lead him down the hall, both of us quiet. I’m sure he realizes that one wrong word would get him a swift kick out into the cold.

His lips are on mine before I can close the door, kissing me hard and fast, pushing his tongue between my teeth. I open for him, trying with all my might to clear my mind of the intense resentment I feel in his presence and instead focus on my senses. The feeling of his palms as he grips my ass. The sounds of my moans into his parted lips. The smell of his body wash, so familiar to me. The taste of his tongue as he glides it against mine.

“You missed me, didn’t you, baby?” He speaks low against my ear. “I knew it.”

I grip his shirt, unsure if I want to shove him away or pull him closer. Before I decide, he yanks my sweats down with one hand and palms my tit with the other. I’m only wearing a tank top with no bra and the scratch of the fabric against my tight nipple is unfortunately exquisite.

He plunges two fingers inside me, rougher than normal, and I yelp against his lips. “So wet for me. Get on the bed so I can show you what you’ve been missing.”

I push my laptop to the side and climb onto the comforter, pulling my pants and underwear down the rest of the way. He’s not wrong, I am wet for him.I hate myself.

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