Page 46 of Ecstasy
Jesus Christ.
I push thoughts of Alex and Christ from my mind and press the heel of my hand against my eyes, thinking about last night. There are gaps in my memory, which is no surprise. I was with Jax, and I snorted the line of the K-coke miracle drug, and everything was great.I was dancing on the table and Jax kept giving me water and I was sweaty, and my heart was racing, and I felt so…alive.The very opposite of what I’m feeling right now.
Right now, I feel heavy.
I need something to help me out with that, and since I have no clothes on, don’t see them anywhere in Alex’s room, and have no clue where my phone is, it’s going to take me a minute to figure out how to get back home and get to my stash.
Alex.
I keep my eyes closed, fingers threaded through my hair, trying to piece it all together. He was at Jax’s. Did I call him? I must have, because he wouldn’t have come otherwise.
He said he needed space. Time to think.
Clearly not that much time.
And Eli.
I remember Eli.
But I don’t remember getting to him. I don’t remember getting out of this bed. I try to think through everything. Through Alex carrying me inside. Stripping me down. Putting the shirt over my head, muttering about how we needed to talk in the morning.
Then I got up, because I was thirsty, and besides that, every time I closed my eyes, stars exploded behind them. I couldn’t lay down, couldn’t stay still. I went downstairs, and Eli was there.
Eli was there and he touched me and God, I wanted him.
I wanted him.
I groan, pressing my fist to my mouth.
Fuck.
Alex will killme. If he knew, he’d fucking kill me.
And then, what happened after that?
It’s like grabbing at straws, it’s right there. I can feel it, see it. But I don’t know how I got from the kitchen to here. Another gap.
And then another thought intrudes on me trying to piece this together.
I pick my head up, nearly crick my neck turning to look at the alarm clock. It’s one of those with the day and date in a little box in the corner.Shit.Rihanna’s funeral is today.
I am definitely not going but I don’t want to be here and see if Alex and Eli are. Fuck that shit.
Before I can decide to fuck it all and steal some clothes from Alex, the door flies open and then slams shut, making me flinch and yank the covers up higher.
Alex’s entire body stiffens when he sees me, his eyes narrowing into slits, his jaw clenching, hands fisting by his sides. It’s unfortunate he’s so pissed off because without a shirt on, wearing low slung, black basketball shorts, he looks damn good.
“Get dressed,” he barks, turning away from me and yanking open the door opposite the bed. His closet door.
He ducks under the doorway, storming inside.
Literally ducking.
He needs a bigger house with bigger doorframes and vaulted ceilings in every damn room.
I watch his back muscles shift as he rips a black t-shirt off a hanger and throws it at me without looking back. He yanks a pair of sweatpants off from the space above the racks and throws that at me too. I catch them before they smack me in the face.
He turns back toward me, shuts the closet door at his back. I see his nostrils flare.
