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“Baaabee, is that you?” Riley called out.
Colton’s jaw clenched at her voice, and he grabbed the chick, pulling her into his apartment. The door closed with a bang behind him.
“It’s me,” I said, walking inside.
Her back was to me as she stood in front of the stove, humming a song under her breath. She had sweatpants and a shirt on, her blond hair up in a messy bun. Riley spared me a look over her shoulder. “Did you get the garlic sticks I asked for?”
I lifted my arm up, showing her the grocery bag I was holding. “Gotcha. It smells good in here.”
She brought the spatula to her lips and blew on it. “Wanna taste?” she asked, cheekily.
I nodded, and she offered me the spoon. The richness of the sauce hit every one of my taste buds, and I moaned. “Yummy!”
We set up the plates, and she placed a bottle of wine on the table. “Is it just us? Is Maddox coming?” Riley asked as she took her seat at our small dining table, opposite of me.
I shook my head, piling some ravioli on my plate. “No, he missed his lecture this morning, so he’s attending a later class today. Isn’t it too early for wine? It’s not even six yet.”
Her lips curled up. “Lila, it’s always time for wine, and we’re celebrating today.”
Riley loved to drink–wine and margaritas in particular. She had been obsessing over red wine lately. It was her favorite and now my favorite as well. We were besties for a reason, right?
Riley swallowed a bite of her dinner and then gave me an inquiring look. “How’s it going with Landon?”
My heart stuttered. Landon, my boyfriend of five weeks.
“Good,” I said, moving a piece of my ravioli around in my plate.
Riley sighed, carefully placing her spoon on her plate, before leveling me with a look. “Lila, don’t give me that shit.”
I chewed on a piece of ravioli before swallowing it down with red wine. I drank half of my glass before slamming it back on the table. “He’s not replying to my text.”
Riley let out a curse. “Did you call him?”
“I’m not that desperate,” I snapped.
“Lila,” she sighed. I refused to look at her because I didn’t want to see the sympathy on her face.
Landon pursued me for three months before I finally gave in. He was a good guy: smart, sweet and nice. At first, I refused to give in since I thought I was his rebound. Landon had broken off with his long-term girlfriend four months before he turned his attention to me. But he courted me, flowers and all, and he was different than the other guys.
Maddox was hellbent on keeping us apart because he believed Landon was no good.
But then again, that was his excuse for every guy I dated over the years.
Granted, none of them really lasted for long–four months maximum.
Sex wasn’t some sacred thing to me. I wasn’t a virgin; I had a few hook-ups here and there, but I never had a one-night stand. I need the intimacy before and after sex, and one-night stands don’t give me any of that. I’ve had a few boyfriends over the years, but Landon was the one I felt… comfortable with, enough for me to give in and have sex so soon into our relationship.
That was three days ago. And he was acting weird since then.
Leo was the first guy to turn away with disgust when he saw my scars. Since then, I either had sex while half-dressed or when we were in the dark–dark enough they couldn’t see the jagged, pink lines between my breasts–just so I could spare them the disgust or shock they’d feel if they saw it. I didn’t need or want their sympathy either.
My scars never bothered me, and I wasn’t really embarrassed of it.
But maybe I was lying to myself.
Landon… he saw my scars. He didn’t really flinch away, but I noticed the way he kept his gaze averted during sex. He didn’t look at my boobs and kept his eyes on my taunt stomach or the spot between my legs instead.
I’d be flattered… if I thought he was focusing on my pussy, but I knew he was just trying to avoid looking at the marks on my chest.
He didn’t act weird afterward, so I believed everything was okay.
Until yesterday.
Landon wasn’t replying to my texts, which was unusual. He had always been very attentive… until now.
“Damn it,” I growled and poured more wine in my glass. “Maybe he’s just busy.”
“Too busy to send you a single text?” Riley stabbed her ravioli with too much aggression. She was a tad bit overprotective of me. Maddox was probably rubbing off on her. “It’d take him two seconds,” she added.
I cleared my throat and took a slow sip of my wine. Drinking too much and too fast would have me tipsy in less than an hour. “It doesn’t matter.”
