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I blinked at the same time Leon did, our heads swinging simultaneously to the owner of the high-pitched voice.
“Ash,” Leon muttered, head dipping. “What do you want?”
Cold hazel eyes assessed us, swaying from Leon’s face to mine, and back again. “You two look cosy.”
I sighed. Ashley Turner. Second in command of the toxic bitch society back in high school. If she was over here, you’d better believe she had a reason to be. And unless she’d undergone the same personality transplant as her former leader, Raya Mitchell, and defected, which was unlikely, you’d better believe that reason was shady as fuck.
“Did you come over here solely to point out the obvious, or was there another reason for the visit?” I asked.
Her squinted gaze landed on my face before she shifted her attention to Leon. Tucking a section of tousled, light brown hair behind her ear, she fluttered her eyelashes. Damn, this is what normal girls did?
“I had fun the other weekend, Leon.”
It was the simpering tone of her voice that had nausea rising—not her words, or the way Leon avoided my gaze and confirmed the truth in them.
The stab of jealousy—hurt, even—that sliced through me couldn’t be more misplaced. I’d run out on him, ignored his calls. Shut him down like a rat-infested fast-food joint. Yet my fingernails stabbed the skin on my palms like little daggers, and I itched with the urge to yank the hair from her head.
“Ashley,” Leon grated.
“You know what?” I interrupted, stepping around him. “Sounds like you two have some catching up to do. I’ll leave you to it.”
Blood rushed past my ears, almost drowning Leon’s shout as I rounded the stairway and headed toward the bathroom, tears of frustration pricking my eyes. My fists tightened.
“Snow Queen, wait a fucking minute.”
“What?” I halted, cutting my gaze to where his hand caught my arm as he spun me to face him.
“You’re pissed,” he murmured, satisfaction crawling through his words and over his face.
I barked a laugh, hating that I’d allowed him to see through me. “Are you high?”
“Not in the slightest.” His jaw ticked. “Why’re you so worked up, Lissa?” Those probing eyes roved between mine.
“Ashley’s a class A bitch.”
His head tilted. “She is… but that’s not why. You ever gonna say it?”
His grip on my arm tightened in sync with the noose around my neck. Fuck! Why couldn’t he just leave it alone?
Why did he have to make me feel? Why did he have to make me fucking acknowledge it? Why did he have to become so much more?
Shutting down, I directed my gaze over his shoulder and dipped my head. “She’s coming over here.”
When his head swung round, I twisted out of his grip and ran.
TWENTY-FIVE
LISS
“You’re ditching me for a guy?” I said with a mock gasp.
Riley’s laugh floated through the phone. “No. He cooked dinner, but I’ll eat it and come straight over when I’m done.”
“Yeah, yeah, so much for hoes before bros,” I muttered, turning on the faucet and rinsing out the coffee-stained mug. “Dinner will lead to dessert; dessert will lead to… more dessert. And I don’t want you rocking up at my place freshly fucked and… ew… oozing.”
“Jesus, Liss!” Riley muttered. “Still just say whatever comes into your head, huh?”
I grinned. “Not always.”
