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Why was she in this bathroom with me? Being in any type of proximity with this girl was dangerous, and that episode in the woods had taught us both that.
I mean, she’d cried.
I’d made her cry and being with me did that to her. I could physically feel her anguish, how I was ripping her apart just as much as she was doing me in. It was painful to be with her too. Like a bleeding-fucking-wound painful.
So why would she want that?
This didn’t make any sense, and that was outside of the fact that she hated me. What I’d done to her made sure of that. Purposeful.
My throat locked about the same time Red wet her lips. She navigated over to the sink, and I studied every move. The way her ripped jeans hit her thick thighs just right. The way her top revealed a sliver of her stomach when she lounged back.
So. Fucking. Soft.
I think she knew how she affected me, but she also knew how I affected her. The sink was the farthest spot she could get away from me. She folded her arms. “We were already having sex before I complicated things.”
My head tilted, and her jaw moved.
“I’m just saying we should again. I like having sex with you, and this time it won’t be complicated.” She frowned. “I’m not asking you to do anything you weren’t already doing.”
The words cut in a way they shouldn’t. I intended for her to believe what happened between us meant nothing.
She thinks you used her.
And why shouldn’t she? My stomach tightened. “Where’s this coming from?”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” I mean, had she gone insane or was this a strike back? Something to get at me, hurt me. I pushed off the door. “No way in hell you’d actually want to do something like that.”
And certainly not with me. She was essentially proposing a friends-with-benefits situation. Except we weren’t friends. The opposite.
You’d made sure of that.
The irony in all this was crazy. How I’d gotten her to be my fake girlfriend, and now, she was in here saying this stuff. I didn’t believe it. No way.
Her expression tensed, and what I’d mistaken as anger before wasn’t. This was anger, Red at the height of it. Her nostrils flared, nose ring moving with it. “Are you saying a girl can’t proposition a guy to fuck without complications?”
“Nah.” I stopped in the center of the bathroom. “I’m saying you can’t.” Or had she forgotten how we left things?
I didn’t think she had, all that all over her face. She wet her lips. “Like I said, that won’t be a problem.” She studied her nails then, as if this whole conversation was just us talking about the weather. Who was this Red? I didn’t know her. Her lashes lifted. “Things aren’t complicated anymore, and I certainly won’t be the one to complicate them.”
Because she didn’t love me.
This was what she was insinuating, and I hadn’t expected those words to cut. This was good she felt that way. I hadn’t wanted her to love me anymore.
This was good.
I forced down the thickness in my throat, watching as Red slinked over. She pushed off the sink with confidence, and though she’d had that in the past, it had always faltered when it came to me. I did things to this girl and even thrived off that.
That was back then, before things were complicated and I did fuck up. I should have never asked her to be my fake girlfriend. No matter what the reason, I should have never asked her. It was impossible to establish a line with her.
Hopeless.
Red was too close to me, her hips nearly meeting mine. Any closer, and she’d get a rude surprise from my Johnson.
Too close.
I could taste her. In my fucking mouth, I could taste that sweet, juicy Red. I could feel her curves against me, the memory of their softness a hard thing to let go of. The way those flushed ass cheeks would hug my dick…
