Page 17 of I'm Not in Love (I Promise)

We stand side by side in the urinal and I continue with my friendly small talk.

“So you and your girl looked like you were having some fun.” My eyes stray back to the radiator as my hands twitch.

It takes him a second to respond. Pissing and talking at the same time are apparently too much for him to handle. “Nah, she’s a prude. It wasn’t going anywhere. Was trying to get her back on my good side.”

My nostrils flare as I try to hold it together.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” I ask, tucking my dick away.

“Who knows this time. Bitch is always on me about something.” He grabs the wall for balance while he continues pissing.

I don’t allow him another second. Grabbing him by the throat, I squeeze until he’s gasping for breath. The piece of shit dribbles piss onto my black boots.That won’t do.

He’s too uncoordinated to put up any kind of fight. It’s almost too easy. I hate when it’s too easy. “You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as her,” I seethe. “You’re a waste of fucking space.”

I let go, step back, and punch him in the gut until he doubles over. “What the fuck?” he rasps and coughs, sinking to the tile floor.

“No, no, Ethan. We’re not done here.” He tries to crawl away, but I grab him by his suit jacket and pull him up, wiping my boot against his slacks. His flaccid dick flops out of his unzipped pants. “You must be a real smart guy, medical school and all.”

“Please,” he groans.

“Oh, now you have manners? Too bad you didn’t have any when Blake was telling you no. Now back to what I was saying. You must be a genius to get into medical school… Wouldn’t have anything to do with mommy and daddy? Or how about that brilliant girlfriend who you’ve been leeching off for years? No… that’s all the brainpower of Ethan Porter, future surgeon.”

I drag him over to the radiator and soak in the fear on his face. Much like how Blake looked when I found her in the hallway.

“Tell me, doctor, what happens when skin is held against a balmy 150 degree slab of cast iron?” He tries to pull away but I grip the back of his neck. “I’m no genius, not like you, but I’d guess it’s not a fun time. Shall we experiment?”

“No… no, please,” he begs, as I pull out my gun and press it to the back of his head.

“Try anything and I pull this trigger.” With my free hand I hold his torso against the heated metal, pressing down to ensure his useless dick gets the brunt of the heat. “Let me hear you count. You’re smart enough to do that, right? It’s all in the name of experimentation.” He’s whimpering and pleading so I push harder. “Count, or I shoot.”

“One,” he cries. “Two…” He’s struggling to free himself but I hold tight. I want him to feel the hurt that Blake felt when she found him fucking someone else. His pathetic dick will never hurt someone again.

“Listen to me closely, Ethan.” I lean over his hunched body. “You’ll never go near Blake again. Don’t talk to her. Don’t touch her.” He nods between sobs. “Did I say to stop counting?”

“Ten, eleven…” His body shakes with each heaving word.

“If I find out you’ve disobeyed me… and I will find out, I’ll come for you. Do we have an understanding?”

I wait a few more seconds until he’s nodding vigorously before I toss him to the floor. He curls up in a ball, clutching his dick. My balls shrivel up when I take a peek at the scalded flesh. Ouch.

“Well, it’s been fun. There’s just one more thing,” I say before whacking him across the temple with the barrel of my gun. His head falls to the side as he goes unconscious. “Can’t have you ruining the rest of Blake’s evening.”

I drag him into a stall and flop him onto the toilet. He’ll take a nice rest and when he wakes up, I’ll be long gone. And now Blake will have her chance to shine with those pretentious assholes. All night long she’s been hidden in Ethan’s shadow, but not anymore. She’ll get that internship, if she still wants it. Whatever Blake wants, I support her.

Ethan’s phone vibrates in his pocket so I grab it and hold it in front of his face to unlock it.

Aubrey: Still coming over later?

Shaking my head, I swipe away and open his photo app. There’s one of Blake laying in bed with a book propped against her folded knees. A coy look lines her lips as her smokey gaze meets the camera. I swipe again and find a selfie of the two of them. My free hand clenches. Blake’s eyes look lifeless. She’s not happy here. He’s never made her happy. But I will.

I open an album labeled “private.” “Oh, Ethan,” I tsk. “I did the world a favor today, didn’t I.” Photo after photo taken from the internet, teenage girls in varying states of undress fill the album, mixed with nudes of himself and other women he’s slept with. None of them are Blake. Not that I wanted to see those inhis phone. Blake’s body is for my eyes only. Seeing these bolsters the choices I made for him. My instincts are rarely wrong.

I drop his phone into the toilet, shut the stall door, and head out into the hallway. The burst of adrenaline that fueled my actions begins to leave as quickly as it came on. My legs shake and my head spins. I need to see that Blake is alright before I leave here. Fuck. I wish I could take her home with me. Tell her how I feel. But it’s not the right time, not yet. I make my way back to the edge of the banquet hall, careful to avoid being seen.

There she is.

My beautiful angel in her silky black dress. Her hair falls over her collarbones and onto her chest in waves. I’d give anything to wrap it around my fists. She’s at the table, biting her plump lower lip, and chatting quietly with the couple beside her. I see that she hasn’t touched her meal and instantly know why.

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