"If you're hungry, there's leftover pizza in the fridge, and you have your own jalapeños now. And it isn't Elias's food, so he can't say shit."
"Thanks."
He smiles a little before pulling the door closed. I sigh, sitting up in bed, and then grab my phone and finally check the time.
It's just after two in the afternoon.
I take some clothes with me into the bathroom, turn on the shower, and strip down. I take my time washing my hair and scrubbing my skin, fearful of the lingering scent of cigarette smoke or worse—my stepbrother.
I kissed my stepbrother—my fuckingmonsterstepbrother. The one who fucking despises me, but says he likes me pathetic on his bathroom floor.
What is wrong with me?
Then I go to the kitchen, start a cup of coffee, and grab a piece of pizza from the fridge. Elias is on the couch watching television, and I can feel him watching me. I wonder what version of him I'll get this morning. I wonder if he's going to yell at me about how the coffee isn't mine, tell me he's obsessed with me, or threaten to choke me with his dick.
I hear his footsteps behind me before he grabs a beer from the fridge and tosses the bottle cap into the trash can beside me. I guess I'm about to find out.
"I want to talk to you, Saige."
"Okay…" I say as I cover my pizza with jalapeños and stick it in the microwave.
"How's your head?"
"It hurts." I look at him, but just barely. I don't want to appear too suspicious. "Um…somehow, I ended up with your shirt last night. I put it in the laundry."
If I didn't know Elias better, I'd swear he looks hurt.
"What do you mean?" he asks. "Whatdoyou remember?"
I shrug. "I remember everything; I just don't remember coming home. I remember getting in the car with you and Blythe. Maybe she gave it to me or something—I don't know."
Nice touch by me, I think—pretending I think Blythe stayed the night with him. And Dax said I was a bad liar.
I think I'm getting pretty fucking good at it.
"Blythe wasn't here. I took her home."
I watch his jaw flex. He's visibly flustered now. I shrug and then grab my pizza and coffee, adding a splash of almond milk to the latter before sitting at the table.
"Coffee and jalapeño pizza. That's a weird combination," Elias says.
"Well, I'm a weird person," I reply dully.
"Do you really remember nothing, Saige? Are you sure?"
His green eyes lock with mine, and I look away, sipping my coffee while my gaze settles on his parted lips, and then on his hands gripping the side of the countertop.
The same lips that were on mine last night. The same hands that wrapped my legs around his waist and laid me down in his bed.
"I remember everything except coming back here and going to bed."
He shakes his head. "Okay, Saige. Whatever."
Elias grabs his beer and goes back to the couch, setting it down hard enough on the coffee table that I'm surprised the glass doesn't shatter. He huffs, running his hands through his hair like he does when something's bothering him.
I know him well enough now to recognize that, too.
I finish my pizza, put my dishes in the dishwasher, and then leave the room.
