Page 47 of Ecstasy
I grab everything he threw at me and hold it close to my chest. Clear my throat.
“Um. Do you want to tell me why you look like you’re about to drown me right now?” I almost wince as I ask the question, thinking belatedly about Rihanna Martinson.
And then, Eli.
God, Alex doesn’t know. He can’t know. He has to be pissed about something else because if he knows, that means it’s really over and I need him. I need something stable in my life. I need a distraction.
He can’t know.
But he really does look like he could strangle me right about now, no pool required.
“Are you fucking joking?”
I clench and unclench my fists, resisting the urge to bite my nails. He can’t know. If he did, there’s no way he would be this calm. There’s just no fucking way.
But the comedown from whatever it is Jax gave me last night is already making me feel like shit, and compounded with whatever Alex is flipping out about right now, I feel sick with nerves.
I’m not about to ask any questions that could hang me before I know what his deal is though. I pull off the dirty shirt, pull on the clean one, trying to hide my body as much as I can because he’s still staring at me like he wants me dead. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, thankful Alex is a big ass freak of nature and his giant t-shirt hits at my thighs.
I put on his sweats, use the drawstring to cinch them as well as I can. Then I steel my spine, facing him with my hands on my hips. It can’t be about Eli, and if it isn’t about Eli then I don’t have anything to feel guilty about.
God, where the fuck is Eli?
I hope he isn’t here. I hope he doesn’t make this any more awkward than it’s going to be.
Gathering up all of my courage, which is in short supply at the moment considering I fucked around with my ex’s best friend and he has no idea, I keep my tone even as I demand, “Either tell me what happened or please give me a ride home.”
He laughs but it dies quickly, and then he steps closer to me, leaning down to get in my face. “Do you remember what you did last night? After we got back here? After I took you home from a party that you might’ve gotten gang raped at?” His voice is low, but I can sense his rage, and it makes my stomach twist up in knots. He’s usually so loud and obnoxious; when he’s all quiet and shit it’s a little unnerving.
But he cannot know.
No way. He would’ve torn this house apart. Probably set the mattress on fire with me in it.
I need water. I need to go home. I need to get the fuck out of here.
But I do not need Alex fucking Cardi in my face talking about a potential rape of all things.
Because I remember. I remember what Jax said.
“No, but you wanna tell me why people say you might be a fucking rapist yourself?” I step back, his eyes narrowing into two coal-black slits. The flecks of amber are gone, almost as if his anger has swallowed them whole. “I didn’t think so. Until you’re ready to have thatconversation, get out of my face with all this shit. I went to Jax’s for the drugs, I went back here with you because you—”
“Because Iwhat?”he snarls, stepping closer again.
I swallow, still tasting that vile drug drip taste in the back of my throat. Crossing my arms, I look down at the floor, not wanting to admit it. Not wanting to tell him exactly why I don’t want to be without him. Even if I do stupid shit. Even if I fucking blew Jamal Clint.
Even if I just fucked around with his best friend.
It’s stupid. Idiotic.
I can’t say it.
I don’t say it.
Because you make me feel safe.
I’m an idiot.
I shake my head, meet his gaze again. “Nothing. You said you needed space, I’ll give it to you, okay? Just, take me home. Go to Rihanna’s fucking funeral. Let one of her grieving friends suck your dick—”
