Page 50 of Elusion

“Trey said you fell out of a tree and wrecked a four-wheeler.”

“Into a barn door?” she asks.

I shrug. “He just said a barn.”

“Tree and barn would correlate to hip and shoulder.” She nods as if I solved some great mystery and places an ice pack on her hip.

I climb onto the mattress next to her. As I toss the blanket over her legs, I see a thin, two-inch-long burn marking her forearm. The branded skin shines a dark red. Christ, Trey and I differ vastly in our definitions of the wordcrazy. I never want to know what he does think fits in the category.

“What happened here?” I touch her arm.

Callie shrugs with her uninjured shoulder, staring at her fingers in her lap. All my building irritation toward her settles. I just want an explanation and to know what happened and why and if she needs anything from me. I want to make it better for her.

“What’s going on with you?” I reach for her hand, but she pulls away, drawing in a deep breath.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

What the actual fuck?

Her eyes dart to mine, once again impossible to read. “I meant what I said about not being able to handle anything else right now. I never wanted anything serious, Jordan.”

Gravity increases tenfold as I clamber to my feet. Each body part threatens to drag me down, but I need to move. I need to process what just left her mouth because it’s not making sense. Five steps carry me from one end of the room to the other, my thoughts pouring out as I pace.

“Friday, you were adamant I admit to wanting more, which I did. I do. Then you didn’t answer your phone all weekend and drank so much that you blacked out. You kicked me out because I wouldn’t have sex with you when you were drunk. Which, okay, whatever. Sorry I’m not a creep like those other guys. Now, after avoiding me, you don’t want to see me anymore?”

She pushes herself forward on the bed, her eyes wide. “Other guys?”

Shit. It’s possibly the most inopportune time to bring up the pictures.

My feet move me in the other direction.

“What other guys, Jordan?” She stands in my way when I turn around, not letting me complete my circuit.

I stop in front of her and rake a hand through my hair, the images playing on a loop. Screw it. I have nothing to lose. “Felicia and I found your friend Shayna’s pictures from high school online.”

Her eyes shut for a second, and she whispers, “You saw those?”

There’s not nearly enough shock in her voice for my liking. As if it were bound to happen.

“Saw them?” I say in response to her understatement. “They’re all seared into my mind. You half-naked and passed out. Different guys with their hands all over you.”

“Over the summer, she said she took them down.”

“Well, she didn’t. And after seeing what you were like back then, your striptease makes perfect sense.” I cringe as soon as the asshole comment falls out of my mouth. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Callie. I didn’t mean that.”

She blinks a few times, hurt evident in her eyes.

Jesus, Waters. Way too far.

I step toward her, but she puts her hands up to stop me. “You see pictures from a few years ago and have it all figured out?”

“I’m sorry,” I say, desperate to rewind the past twenty seconds.

Her stare goes cold, all the walls back in place when she looks at me. “So, if I’m so fucking easy and you still haven’t screwed me, what does that say about you?”

“You know I don’t—”

“I think it says you should go back to banging groupies who are stupid enough to fall for your pathetic bullshit.”

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