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She looks up with a start, horror coloring her features. Her hazel eyes are wide. Instantly, alarm bells start going off in my head.
What the fuck?That’s the lamest fucking thing I could have said. I try to recover. “Your hair smells nice.”
I’ve said the wrong thing. The stupidest thing. The thing a kid would say to another kid they have a crush on during recess, not the kind a man would say to a girl he’s trying to flirt with. Did I forget how to flirt, too? This is so much worse than I thought.
Fuck.
“Thank you,” she sneers. “Yours smells like shit.”
I frown, absently running my hand through my hair. That can’t be true. I’ve been showering more often, thanks to her presence here. It’s at least a marked improvement from what was happening in the days we were ‘broken up.’
I open my mouth to say something, but she speaks before me.
“Alexander. I know that in your fucked up head, this makes sense. You might even think I still like you.” She pulls in a shuddering breath, like she’s holding a lot back. “But I just want to make something clear. Me being here doesn’t mean I have forgiven you. I never will.” Her tone grows more contemptuous with each sentence. “My presence here is entirely selfish and purely out of self-preservation. The quicker you understand that, the easier it will be for both of us.”
I want to argue with her, but my chest is hollow. I’m slowly losing a grip on reality, it seems, because the edges of my vision have started to blur.
Alize rises from the chair, and pushes past me, crossing the room toward the hallway. I’m right behind her, trying to say something, anything that will salvage the sinking feeling in my stomach and snap us back to reality.
“Alize, I told you it wasn’t me. I wouldneverhurt you like this.” She starts walking faster. “Just give me a chance to explain.”
I’m hot on her heels. When she gets to the door, she yanks it open and abruptly turns to face me. Well, face my chest. Though she’s so short, she’s glaring up at me like she could level me with a punch.
There’s a phantom pain in my nose, reminding me of when Tara did as much. In the midst of all of this, I can’t get over how cute she looks when she’s angry at me. I want to kiss the frown from her lips and fuck her until the tension leaves her body.
“What’s wrong? Am I treating you too horribly?” she mocks.
I can see where this is going.
“Alize, just hear me out.”
She’s impregnable.
“Alexander, I don’t want to hear you out!”
Alize slips through the door. I try to stop her, but she’s much nimbler than I remember. Or am I just slower today? I can’t be sure. She slams the door in my face.
I stand in the hallway staring at the closed door for a long time.
How do I fix this?
Alize’s approval is like oxygen to me. I need her to smile at me again. I need her to look at me like I’m the only thing that matters in her world. I need her to be there for me, because the stress is eating me alive and even all the fucking cigarettes in the world don’t compare to ten minutes with her.
I won’t let her slip through my fingers again.
Balling my hands into fists, I cross the hall to my own room.
If Alize wants to play this game, then I’ll show her that I’m the one who created the rules.
SIXTEEN
ALEXANDER
I wake with a start,drenched in sweat.
My heart is racing, my breaths shallow. My mind is a black hole—I have no idea what I was dreaming about, but the feeling lingers.
Panic.
