Page 72 of Atone

We stop by the makeshift bathrooms to clean up. But by the time I fix my smeared eyeliner, I’ve wiped away most of my makeup.

Alex is already done and waiting for me outside when I exit the bathroom. But he doesn’t take my hand or even stand close. He hooks his thumbs into his pockets, weaving us through the crowd. I try not to let his boundaries bother me. I understand some people aren’t as affectionate. Or at least not public about it. But with Alex, it’s something elseentirely. A wall I’m scaling. Each time I think I’m finally making progress, my feet slip.

There’s at least a foot of distance between us as we weave through the crowd. The only time he edges closer is if someone tries to step between us. It’s clear he wants to be close—that he’s watching my every move and where I am in relation to him—he just doesn’t seem to know what he plans on doing about it.

Regardless of the space, I’m trapped in his orbit. Alex is a black hole, and while his boundaries keep him safe, there’s little protecting my heart when I steal a glance and catch his hazel eyes watching me. One way or another, I’m going under for this man. All I can do is hope that at some point he finds a way to meet me there.

People buzz around us, so we walk in silence. If he won’t speak to his sister or mother, there’s no way he’ll open up with me in front of strangers. The quiet leaves plenty of time for me to wonder what he’s thinking about.

Is he thinking about what we did?

Is he regretting not coming when he had the chance?

What does it mean that he didn’t?

I’m used to guys seeing me as a means to an end. My lack of self-respect when it came to sex with guys before Marco was borderline embarrassing. But Alex seems intent on proving that’s not all this is for him. There’s no rush. He’s taking his time.

“Maybe Mila can show us?” Marco’s voice cuts through all others, and I look up to see him leaning against a wooden post with a throwing knife in his hand.

Of all the places Alex could have led me, of course, he decided to take me to Marco. Probably punishment for insinuating I’m still jealous over my ex-boyfriend.

Unless I’m the one who led us here?

If so, it wasn’t intentional.

“No way.” Maddox chuckles, pulling the redhead under his arm closer.

She’s familiar, so she must go to school with us. But she’s also young, so she is probably a freshman.

Marco lifts off the post and takes a step toward me, stopping only when he notices Alex at my side. The gap between us has closed to almost nothing, which is surprising, since his fraternity is going to use it to read into our relationship.

Marco’s gaze drifts from Alex to me, not acknowledging him. “Rumor has it, Mila knows her way around a blade.”

“How would you know that?”

Besides throwing a knife at Alex at Sigma House, I’ve never told anyone but Patience.

“Really, Mila?” Marco steps forward.

Close enough to smell the beer on his breath as he gleams down at me. His dark eyes flash with something I mistook as charm when I met him. Now all I see is the manipulation.

He reaches out, brushing my skirt. His fingers tease the spot where I hide the knife strapped to my thigh, and I take a step back.

I forgot he knows about that. We didn’t fuck while we were dating, but we kissed and touched enough that he asked me about it.

Beside me, I feel Alex stiffen, and I realize that I didn’t step back, I stepped sideways, against him. And even if he hasn’t pulled his hands from his pockets, I feel every fiber of irritation radiating from his skin.

“Oh, right.” I clear my throat.

Marco chuckles mockingly. “Besides, apparently, this place is practically your home.”

Those rumors started spreading after someone at school overheard me talking to Patience when we came here before she left. And while I used to try and hide my involvement in the carnival when I was younger, I don’t care what people say about it now, so I let them spread.

“Can you seriously throw knives, Mila?” Maddox asks.

His eyes are hazy with whatever he’s high on.

Marco smirks. “She’s not going to show us.”

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