“I think there are a few other options.”
His eyes are colder than ever.
He runs his fingers through his hairand as he moves, the bottom hem of his T-shirt pulls up a little, revealing a strip of skin on his lower abs.
I catch a glimpse of the tattoo he has there.
One I’ve seen in his videos.
And something pulses in my veins like I’m looking at forbidden fruit.
What’s it like to touch someone there?
What would it be like to put my tongue on his skin? Following the lines of that looping tattoo?
He puts his arm back down and the material of the shirt covers him again. He saw me staring.
“If you wanted me, you didn’t have to drug me, Ollie.”
“Didn’t drug you. Is that the only way you could stomach living with that silver-haired guy? Were you on drugs while you lived with him, too?”
Something different flashes through Niko’s eyes when I mention his ex with silver hair.
Like he’s spooked.
Almost like Ihurthim.
For the last few months, Niko posted tons of pictures with that guy, a man who’s clearly only in his twenties but bleaches his hair into a silver-grey.
“Don’t talk about Callum.”
“You posted photos in his house. His pool. His bed.”
“Whatever you saw on Instagram, you don’t know what it was like with my ex.”
I frown. “Were youlivingwith him?”
“I was. And I’m not anymore. And I saiddon’t talk about him.”
“Why not? Maybe I’ll send him a private message.”
Niko takes a step closer.
For a moment I wonder if he’s going to come at me again, but he doesn’t.
“Callum is dangerous. I’m not with him anymore. I’m here. This fucking jail cell of a house is better than the last place I was in, unfortunately. Understand?”
He stares at me for another moment and then seems to decide it’s no longer worth his time.
He shoves past me, and after disappearing into the crowd, I see him heading up the staircase.
I head up the stairs and realize that I’ve made the cardinal mistake I always make, leaving my bedroom door wide open. I can see the light coming out into the hallway from inside my room.
And Niko wouldknowit’s my room, because on the mini whiteboard I keep on my door, Noah recently wrote “fuck machine palace” surrounded by little smiley faces.
Of course.
When I walk in it’s even worse than I thought.
