Page 50 of Ex- Factor
The fire burned on, sparks spiraling into the sky like tiny, fleeting stars. And for tonight, at least, that was enough.
Chapter Twenty Eight- Eshe
I was getting my feet and toes done—the Supreme, or whatever they called it. A week in the woods had wreaked havoc on my nails, and I could still smell campfire in my hair.
The salon was full, and we were waiting on our techs.
Angel laughed. “I told you we could’ve doneanythingexcept camping, and Silas would’ve loved it.”
Then her eyes narrowed, her gaze trailing behind me.
I didn’t even look up. The smell of overpriced vanilla invaded my nose, and the look on Angel’s face told me exactly who was behind me. I sank a little deeper into the chair, scrolling through my phone, hoping whatever dusty spirit had conjured her would send her right back out the door.
No such luck.
Click-clack.
Her designer purse hit the armrest next to me.
“Eshe?” That too-sweet voice I hated. Like the smell of rotten apples—sweet, but something ain’t right.
I sighed before I even turned. “Hey, Sinica.”
She smiled like she was expecting an Oscar forWoman Who Did Nothing Wrong.
“You look good!” she chirped. “So good. I was hoping I’d run intoyou after the incident at the party. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble…”
“Oh, Ibetyou didn’t,” I murmured, still not looking up from my phone.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw Angel mean-mugging her.Nowthat was friendship.
“I thought you were over Donte and me, but you seemed upset that night. I mean, people can’t help who they fall in love with, right? Y’all were only together, like… what? A year?”
I set my phone down slowly and finally turned to look at her.
Her lashes were curled to perfection, lips lined, gloss poppin’. She was a pretty woman on the outside.
If only the inside matched.
I let out a short laugh. “You think we were only together a year?”
Sinica blinked like she didn’t understand English.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, voice rising.
I just waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No—say what you mean.”
I looked at her fully now. “I mean I got tired of being fake with you, Sinica.”
Even I was surprised at how tired my voice sounded. Not angry. Not bitter. Just worn. Like she didn’t even hold enough weight in my life to piss me off anymore.
Sinica frowned, confused. “Fake?”
“You always acted like you didn’t know what you were doing when you took your little digs at me. Or when you sat there laughing while your friends clowned every man I dated.
That was fine. But I won’t let you sit here and pretend like you tripped and fell into Donte’s bed. Let’s not lie to each other. You planned that shit. I knew you added him on your fake little LinkedIn months before he went to Atlanta.
