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I just need to believe it a little more than that.
Scarlett is untouchable.
Inaccessible.
Forbidden.
“Deep down, what do you want?” Milo asks.
“I don’t want to make them suffer.”
Milo runs a hand through his hair and mistreats it for a second as he thinks.
“Do you want my opinion? You’re not hurting Harriet, because she doesn’t know what happened. You are, however, hurting Scarlett.”
My heart sinks and I can see the tears rolling down her cheeks after the heated confrontation with her asshole boyfriend. When I saw him leave, slamming the door, I understood that it was really over between them. I felt both a huge relief that this clown was no longer in her life, and deep pain at noticing how hurt she looked about the situation. We didn’t talk about our kiss, she pushed me away before I even came to console her, and I haven’t seen her since. I wanted to follow her to her room, force her to talk to me, to confide. But I knew it was going to be weird and a part deep inside me wasn’tready to confront her. The other part wanted to run down the stairs and beat Burtton for the tears, the pain, the name-calling, and his accusation that was way too close to the truth.
“If you thinknothingis going to happen with Scarlett,” continues Milo, pulling me out of my thoughts, “then put things straight and resume your life with your girlfriend. If, on the contrary, you think that… you like Scarlettthatway, then be honest with Harriet.”
“I don’t like Scarlett!” I exclaim defensively.
Milo shrugs and bites the inside of his cheek.
“So, you have your answer.”
I stare dully at my glass then finish my beer in one gulp. Dehydrated, lost, and frustrated.
I just don’t want to lose Scarlett, but it has to stop.
May it never start again.
Or it’s not just her I’ll lose.
23
Scarlett
“You’re all alone?”
“Nolan is showering, and your brother had to go see the coach before going home.”
I slump on the couch next to Leo and grab the remote from his hands. He jostles me with a laugh, trying to get the object back before I change the channel. He watches a show about cars and, honestly, it sucks. His hand slides on my ribs and I burst out laughing, gesticulating. His fingers are rough and his breath on my neck causes a slight feeling of discomfort in my stomach. A week ago, it was Nolan in his place, his hard and warm body, his tanned skin, his musky smell.
I feel butterflies.
I drop the remote and settle back on the couch, pulling my knees up to my chest.
“You’re softening, mini-Martin,” laughs Leo.
“I don’t want to make you cry.”
He laughs and I flick his ear as the apartment doorbell rings.
“Did you close the door behind you? Your brother must have forgotten his keysagain.”
“It’s open,” I yell at the door.
The doorbell rings again and I sigh as I straighten up. I walk quickly and open the door to the visitor. Thinking I would see Edgar, I almost jump when I notice the beautiful blonde in the doorway. Her hair impeccably waved, a wasp waist highlighted by high-waisted jeans and a midnight blue crop top that brings out the whiteness of her skin.
