Page 83 of Ecstasy
But I can’t stop it. I’m laughing, gripping his sheets, him tense at my back.
“Do you mind telling me what the fuck is so funny?” he asks quietly, and it makes me laugh a little more.
His hand goes up to my throat, clamping down around me.
I stop laughing. “Eli…no fucking shit I walked in here.”
He’s silent a moment, then he sighs, his hand loosening around my throat.
And then he lets me go. He just…steps back, and I have to tighten my grip on the bed in front of me to keep my balance. The absence of him is so disorienting.
I spin around, see him running both hands through his hair, the glow of his laptop screen behind him.
That is a car, I realize.
“You need to go back to Alex’s room,” he says, turning his back to me, his hands fisted in his hair. His shoulders are so broad, and I can see his biceps, the dark stains of tattoos on his arm, trailing down to his hand. I can’t make out the art in the darkness, but I can see it there.
Almost like a reminder.
Eli is cold.
“Okay,” I tell him, my voice rough, my own hand at my throat. “Sorry for…” I trail off. I don’t know what I’m sorry for. I don’t know if Iamsorry.
He doesn’t look at me.
I take a step toward the door, the floor creaking softly beneath my feet.
“It’s not the first time,” he says, catching me off guard.
I freeze, staring straight ahead, at the door. My mouth opens to ask him what he’s talking about, but nothing comes out. I think because I know.
“Remember that night, against the counter. You came down to the kitchen.”
My chest is tight. My hands clench into fists, and I feel a shiver start down my spine, trail to my knees, making them tremble. And I hold my breath. I hold my breath as I wait for him to say it. To say what I don’t want to know.
But he doesn’t say anything.
He’s silent.
“You can stay,” he adds quietly. “If you want. You can stay.”
“Why do you want me?” I ask him instead, not wanting to talk about sleepwalking. “Is this just a game to you, Eli? What are we fucking doing?”
More silence. I want to turn around and face him. I want to ask him if it hurts, knowing I fucked Alex. I want to ask him what he wants from me.
But it’s his turn to speak. Not mine.
Yet when he does, I almost wish he hadn’t. I almost wish I had kept my fucking mouth shut.
“Why doyouwant me, Zara?”
Shame washes over me in a hot, uncomfortable wave, replacing the fear. The dread. The shiver. My hands feel clammy, my heart is racing too fast. Uncomfortably fast.I need water.That’s probably why I came here. That’s probably what I was looking for.
Water.
“Why do you want me, Zara?”
Because I can’t have you? Because you’re taboo? My ex’s best friend? Because you see me? Because you pulled me out of the very same pool you held me down in?
