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Lily
My TV blares the movie I’m not watching loudly, but not loud enough to block out my thoughts. I’ve only had my heart broken once in the past. When our dad left us and tore our family apart, I vowed to never let a man hurt me again. So much for that vow.
Stefan spit a few pretty lines, gave me mindblowing sex, and I was ready to throw all caution to the wind and give him all of me. I am the woman I caution other women against becoming. I ignored what I know and scoffed at Liv’s warnings. Even she could see how this would end better than me. Now I feel like a clown with an endless supply of tears, apparently.
I’m sure my anger is keeping the temperature up in my condo. I can’t settle the restlessness I feel nor cool myself down. The sweat that’s been stuck to me since I came back home continues to dampen my skin.
I knew better. I knew so much better. I knew he was a player. I knew he was a liar. I knew he was a slimy, sexist rich boy who sees women as objects. I knew it! And still, I let him in.
As I sit on my old, worn couch seething and glaring at the TV, I can’t be angry with anyone but myself. A man such as he, a man who’s been with so many women, is practiced in the art of manipulation and coercion. I can’t believe I was so ready to submit to him, to expand my sexuality with him. I can’t believe I was ready to literally give him all of me.
Who was that woman? She was gorgeous. Prettier than me. That’s what he likes? Bony redheads? Images of them together, naked and entangled choke me. Fresh tears burn a trail down my cheeks and soak into my shirt. He probably makes her scream the way he made me. He probably kisses her neck and nibbles behind her ears like he did me. Maybe he even cuddles her and whispers sweet nothings to her all night like he did with me. Does he like her better?
A booming knock at the door damn near makes me jump out of my skin. I unfold myself from my couch and make my way to the door. I can't see anyone through the peephole. My heart races as I unlock my door and pull it open just enough to stick my head out. My breath catches when I meet those jewel blue eyes. Stefan is standing just out of sight of the peephole, his face flushed but stony.
“Can I come in?”
Fury burns and courses through me, reddening my vision and heating my skin.
“Get the fuck away from my door,” I hiss before rearing back to slam the door as hard as I can. But it stops. I look down to see his boot lodged in the doorway. I growl and shove my body against the door. He’s much stronger than me. Seemingly effortlessly, he forces his way through the door. I’m panting from the struggle, and he doesn’t even have a hair out of place. His gaze is level and blank.
“Get out,” I say, in a low, hard voice.
“No, we need to talk.” His dimples are displayed when he bites his lip. My attraction to that simple movement enrages me. I storm to my kitchen grabbing whatever doodad I can get my hands on and throwing it at him.
“Get out!” I scream. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”
He dodges everything, glass shattering and plastic objects clattering.
“Lily!” he snaps before having to dodge something else.
I find the blow dryer I left on the bar and chuck it at him, blind with rage. Oh no wait, those are tears. I hate him for making me cry in front of him. He hasn’t made a move to stop me or come near me. He just watches me with a blank expression, the storm contained in his eyes. That empty fucking expression just pisses me off even more.
Panting, I turn wildly, looking for something else to throw at him, to hurt him. Before I know it, he’s behind me. Damn, he’s fast. He pins my arms to my side and wrestles me down to the floor as I kick and scream and thrash, venomously cursing him to hell the entire time. Damn him for being so much stronger than me!
When he forces me onto my back and pins my arms to the floor with his shins, I can finally see emotion in his eyes. I freeze, surprised at the anguish there.
“Lily.”
His voice sets me off again. I kick as hard as I can, trying, pointlessly, to wiggle my shoulders and turn my lower half to throw him off. He might as well be a wall for as much as I move him.
“You’re a liar!” I shriek. “Which one of us do you like better, huh? You pig!”
He grips my chin so hard I can’t move my head.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he demands. I spit in his face earning a hiss as he releases my chin. He drags his sleeve across his cheek, his eyes blazing.
“Play dumb all you want. I saw you!”
“Saw me what?” His voice is quiet, even, calm.
“I saw you with her! I saw her kiss you!”
“Who!”
“That fucking red head! Stop playing dumb, you son of a bitch!”
He frowns for a second, and then his eyes widen. Suddenly, he laughs. His face turns red and his eyes water as he bends over with laughter. He’s actually laughing at me. I swear to God if he lets me off this floor, I’m going to kill him.
