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My gaze is now fully focused on her tits that bounce with her gesturing movements.
“Nice dress. Your tits look fucking unreal.” Her expression falters, her eyes narrowing. “We all grieve differently, Em. I don’t know what you want me to say.” I’m half telling the truth, just leaving out the part about how I already grieved the loss of Dane years ago when he turned into someone I didn’t recognize.
Hell, maybe I never even knew him.
“Really? You expect me to believe you when you said all of that in the same breath as complimenting my tits?”
“What can I say? The heart has a funny way of showing pain sometimes.” I push off from the doorway. Her gold sandal heels have a delicate strap that runs a few inches up her calf and it’s caught my attention.
Your shoes would look fucking fantastic up by your ears. I could have said that.
“We both know you don’t have a heart and don’t call me Em; that was Dane’s nickname for me.”
“I came up with it.” My response is out of my mouth before I even register it.
“What?”
“I—nothing.”
“It isn’t nothing. Tell me.”
“I called you that first, to him, and then he started calling you that. It was just how I referred to you over the years.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that,” she says softly.
“Scotch?” I motion over my shoulder to the living room. She looks off to the side for a second like she’s telling herself not to, but she gives in.
“Yeah, I could use it.”
My heavy pour streak continues as I make sure to make mine a double. I’m going to need it if I keep thinking about fucking her.
“Why do you have so many tattoos?” Her eyes fall to the one on my hand as she takes the glass from me.
“Like you said, I don’t have a heart, so I have to do something to feel and I just so happen to like pain.”
The glass pauses halfway to her lips like she’s going to say something in response to my comment, but she hesitates before changing the subject. “Why did you disappear?”
“What makes you think I did? The reality is Dane was my best friend and he’s not here anymore so why would I keep showing up?”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he was what you and I had in common.” I slide one hand into my pocket, bringing my scotch to my lips and taking a generous drink. “We aren’t friends, Emery; we never have been. Now that Dane is gone, why pretend like we are now?”
She swallows, her eyes brimming with tears already. I imagine her feelings are hurt. I know they are actually, but it’s the truth.
“Wow,” she huffs.
“Oh, come on. Don’t act like there’s something there. We both know you’ve hated me since the second you met me.”
She lifts a perfectly arched brow. “You brought it on yourself.”
“Maybe so, but then why the hell are you here? If you’re looking to cry together and share stories about Dane, I’m not your guy.” I wink at her.
“Don’t you feel guilty? Don’t you regret the things you said to me over the years now that he’s gone?”
“Stop trying to find the redemption arc for me; there isn’t one, sweetheart. We both know I’m not the kind of man you run to. I’m the type you run from, so do us both a favor and move the fuck on with your life and leave me alone.”
“How do you sleep? How do you look at yourself in the mirror?” She pushes against my chest. “How do you feel nothing?” She spits the words at me.
