Page 33 of Ecstasy
He steps back, and I reluctantly let go of him, my hands coming to the cool counter as he assesses me, his eyes raking up and down my naked body.
Maybe he wants to stop. Maybe he realizes this is bad.This is bad.We can’t do this. We can’t.
“We can’t do this,” I blurt out as he stares at me. “I don’t know why you’re even here, but we can’t do this, Eli.” I cross my arms over my chest, cross my legs, too. “You need to leave.”
“You know, Zara, it’s not a good look. Being with someone that treats you like shit.” He steps closer, reaching out his hand, and I flinch but he just brushes his thumb across my hip. The scar he saw me leave there.
My face feels hot, my chest, too.
“That doesn’t notice where you really hurt.”
I don’t know what to say. I can only stare at him. But then he takes a step back and for one wild moment, I want to grab him, beg him to stay. I don’t want to be alone.
But I don’t beg.
And I don’t fuck my ex’s best friends.
“I have to go to practice.” He glances at the clock on the stove behind me. “What are you doing tonight?”
I scoff, and even though I don’t want to say it, I still do. “Nothing with you.”
He stares at me a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he shrugs. “All right.” He steps toward the door, then stops, his back to me. My heart soars, wondering stupidly if he’ll stay. If we’ll actually do this after all.
But all he says is, “Those scars are beautiful, baby girl.”
And without another word, without an explanation, he just walks out, closing the door softly behind him, leaving me naked and alone in my kitchen.
I glance down at my thighs.
I look over the pale white lines in the thickest part of my skin.
He saw them.
He saw them.
9
Zara
What the fuck just happened?
Does he really know?
Did he really see me that night?
What else does he know about me?
It’s not like I keep many secrets. My bullshit is out in the open, for everyone to see.
Absentmindedly, I trail my finger along my bare hip, my clothes still in a heap on the kitchen floor. I glance down, see the pale white scars.
Alex has never even noticed them.
Maybe he thought they were stretch marks and wanted to be polite.
I laugh out loud in the quiet of my apartment at the idea. Alex is a lot of things, but he is not polite.
Fuck.
