Page 82 of Illusory

“Why bother knocking if you’re just going to come in anyway?” asked Tessa as she lay on her bed with her back propped up against the black velvet upholstered headframe.

“Sorry,” I said and shut the door behind myself, leaning my back against it and peering around the room. As uninvited as I felt, it was still better than being cornered by Trace andDominic, which was undoubtedly what would have happened had I gone back to my own room.

There wasn’t much furniture in the space other than her bed, a black dresser and a strange contraption with rubber bands and steel bars that looked like it was either one of those home gym apparatuses, or some kind of kinky sex equipment. I decided that it would be gym equipment for the duration of my visit.

Her brows banked together as she looked me over. “What happened? Did you get more news about the Incubator?” she asked, mistaking my duress for something far more dangerous, but not nearly as ruinous.

“No. I haven’t heard anything yet.”

“Oh.” She narrowed her eyes, studying me harder. “Did the blood-desensitizing thing not go well?”

I shook my head. “That part went okay actually.” Up until it went really wrong anyway.

She blinked a few times, waiting for me to elaborate. “So, are you going to tell me what’s the matter or should I just keep guessing here?”

“The matter is that I suck.”

“Right.” She nodded. “Makes a lot of sense. Thanks for clearing things up.”

“You’re welcome.” I shifted my weight onto my other foot but didn’t move after that.

“Can I askwhyyou suck, or is this just like a general consensus?”

I arched my brow at her. “How else would you describe someone who’s in love with two guys at the same time?”

Her expression relaxed when she realized this was about my love life and not an actual life or death situation—even though it felt like one to me. “Why are you suddenly in your feelings about it? It’s not exactly a new development,” she saidas though she were already bored of that soap opera drama.

“No, it’s not, but living under the same roof togetheris.”

She paused to think about it. “I think I’m getting it now,” she said and then tapped the spot next to her on the bed. I pushed off the door and dragged my feet all the way over to her bed before climbing in under the comforter beside her.

“So, what happened?” she asked as she pulled out a bag of potato chips from under her blanket like it was a totally normal place to have them stored. “Did they start punching each other’s lights out again or something?” she asked, a little too excitedly for my taste, I might add, and then shoved a few chips into her mouth.

“Seriously, Tessa? What the hell?” I gawked at her stuffed mouth and then lifted the comforter, craning my head to see what the hell else she was hiding under there. “Since when do you eat in bed?” I asked, completely baffled.

For as far back as I could remember, Tessa had two rules about her bedroom. One: stay the fuck out of it. And two: If youdohappen to ever get invited in, nevereverunder any circumstances attempt to bring food in with you. And that included chewing gum. It was like some kind of nervous tick she had.

“I don’t know. Since now, I guess,” she answered nonchalantly like it wasn’t the huge deal that it was, and then packed a few chips into her mouth as if to solidify the point. “So, was there blood?” She waggled her brows.

“No, there wasn’t any blood.” I shot her an irritated look. “It wasn’t that kind of argument.”Thank godthey were at least mature enough not to start swinging at each other.

“Well, what’s the problem then? It’s not like they ever liked each other or got along before anyway.”

“The problem is we’re all stuck living here together and I’m pretty sure they’re going to end up killing eachother at some point,” I snapped because she clearly wasn’t understanding how dire the situation had become or how badly the guilt was eating me alive. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see them going at it. This is the worst I’ve ever seen them and it’s only going to get worse the longer this goes on.”

“Then stop letting it go on.”

“Really, Tessa? And how exactly do you suggest I do that?”

“By ripping off the bandage and picking the one you want to be with, for crying out loud,” she said, like it was the easiest thing to do. Like it was even remotely a possibility.

“I literally fucking can’t, Tessa! That’s the whole goddamn problem. I can’t do that. I can’t choose between the two of them without feeling like I’m losing half my heart either fucking way.” I hated that I felt that way, that I couldn’t simply have loved one atinybit more, but that was just the way it was. The way it had always been. Her telling me to pick one wasn’t going to make it any more possible for me to do it.

She studied my face for a moment as she chewed. “Youcan’tseriously mean to tell me that you love them bothexactlythe same amount. There’s no way I’m buying that. You must be leaning more toward one than the other.”

“Don’t you think I would have already put us all out of our misery if that was the case? Do you think I like hurting them? That I like feeling guilty and shitty and torn all the goddamn time? Because news flash, I really don’t. I don’twantto love them both. I just…I just don’t know how to make myselfstop.”

“Why don’t you try making a list of all their best and worst qualities? See which one stacks up better,” she suggested and then tossed a few more chips into her mouth.

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