Page 105 of Sinners Atone
A pinch of something ugly twists low in my stomach. I can’t stop it. The jealousy is sharp and sour, and I know it’s ridiculous, because Tayce has seen half of the coast naked. And Gabriel Visconti isn’tmineto react over. He’s not even mine to look at. But the thought still coils tight around my ribs.
I pump soap into my hands and scrub them if only to hide my tremor.
She doesn’t look like she’s leaving anytime soon, so I reach for the soap again and set the record straight. “I am not sleeping with him,” I say quietly.
“But you want to?”
“No—”
“But you totally would, right?”
“No, I?—”
“Because I’ll be honest, Wren, that David dude is a drip.”
I scowl up at her. “Are you kidding me? You told me I needed to kiss frogs!”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah,frogs.David’s more of a tadpole. He’s…” She gestures around the restroom, looking for the right insult. “Weird and slimy.”
“But Gabriel’s not a frog either. He’s a whole-ass dragon,” I snap back, before hastening to add: “Notthat I’ve ever even thought about kissing him.”
Her gaze sparks. “Uh-huh.”
Ears burning from embarrassment, I turn away and shove my hands under the dryer. I glare at the crude graffiti on the wall behind it, wrestling with the confession itching at the back of my throat.
But Uncle Finn once told me that the worst thing a guilty person can do is confess to a lesser crime. Piercing the conscience leads to open wounds. If I admitted I had a sick, twisted crush on Gabriel, who knows what I’d admit to next.
No. Instead, I steel my spine, spin around, and put up my best defense.
“First you tell me that he’s not as scary as he looks, then Rory insists he doesn’t carry a gun. But I’m not as naive as you think I am, Tayce. I know he’s a dangerous man. Jeez.” I fold my arms across my chest. “If you weren’t my best friend, I’d think you’d want me dead or something.”
A hollow beat passes; she doesn’t shoot down my dramatic claim. Instead, she palms the sink, her fingers tracing the cracked porcelain. When her gaze finally lifts to meet mine in the mirror, she looks a decade older.
“There are two types of dangerous men in this world, Wren. The ones you run from, and the ones you run toward to escape the first kind.” She lets out a breath halfway between a laugh and a sigh, then straightens up. “Trust me: I didn’t need to witness Gabe’s outburst tonight to know which camp he falls into.”
Her words hang in the silence, light as steam, yet dense enough to punch me in the gut.
I’m so busy wrestling with my own demons, I forget Tayce is fighting with her own. The only difference between us is that she wraps hers in black and one-night stands, and I bury mine under pink and good deeds.
Guilt tugs on my heartstrings and stings the backs of my eyes. “Tayce?—”
She cuts me off. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get out of here before I catch an STD,” she says, screwing up her nose at the suspicious brown smear on the paper towel dispenser. “You coming?”
Glancing at the door, I hesitate. I’m not sane enough to deal with what’s behind it yet, so I shake my head. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
She studies me for a moment, before giving a decisive nod. “Fine, but if I don’t see you in five minutes, I’m sending out a search party.”
She blows me a kiss and then she’s gone, leaving me alone with nothing but the ghost of Gabriel’s outburst echoing off the tiles.
Shesaid,she’ll have a lemonade.
They crackle down my core and light a spark between my thighs. When it fizzles out, it leaves me with this hollow, desperate ache. I guess I’m not your conventional addict, but the withdrawals hit hard and fast all the same.
I drift back over to the sink and stare at myself in the mirror.
This is that really unrealistic part in movies where the heroine splashes their face with cold water. Though I’m spinning out of my damn mind, I don’t think I’ll ever be crazy enough to dothat.
Instead, I dig out my makeup and touch up my eyeshadow and reapply my blush. I coat on two layers of lipgloss too many. When I drop the tube back into my purse, my cell vibrates against my knuckles.
